


Time and Time Again

by Claranon



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Come join the fun we have free turtlenecks, F/M, Full game spoilers ahoy!, I'm going to sail this ship to the ends of the earth, More of a slower vignette-style story this time, POV Alternating, Why did I write 64k words in a month? Because I hate myself clearly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-11-26 22:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 64,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20937761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claranon/pseuds/Claranon
Summary: Two people. Two possibilities. Two painful, exhilarating, unforgettable journeys. And a thousand little moments along the way.The course of true love never did run smooth, but as Jade and Hendrik try to navigate the confusion and awkwardness of their growing relationship, they find themselves travelling a far more complicated road than either of them could have imagined.





	1. Prologue: Heliodor

**Author's Note:**

>   
  

> 
>   
[Bender voice] I’m back, baby!
> 
> After sorting through the hoard of random ideas that I’ve gathered up the past year without a good story to put them in (I’m basically a dragon whose treasure is entirely composed of scenes where a socially awkward knight is socially awkward), I decided to figure out a way to use them so I could wipe my brain clean and start fresh for DQXI S. The result was this: a quieter, vignette-style journey following two doofuses who are just dumb enough to fall in love with each other—twice. (Damn, maybe I should’ve used _that_ as the summary...)
> 
> I've mostly completed all whopping 64,000 words of this and will be posting on a daily schedule at around noon Eastern Time. I'm starting with the prologue and first chapter today, and eventually ending with the last chapter and an epilogue next Friday. As always, I'd be delighted to hear any and all commentary as we go (especially, and I cannot stress this enough, words to the effect of "Hendrik why are you _such a goddamned moron_").
> 
> Was it a good idea to write this before playing DQXI S with all the new content? Probably not. Did I feel like waiting regardless? Nah. So here we are, and hope you enjoy!

╔══════════════╗  
**Prologue: Heliodor**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


Her Royal Highness Princess Jade of Heliodor was feeling cranky.

That wasn’t how she was _supposed_ to describe herself, of course. According to her governess, a crown princess could be ‘discontented’, ‘vexed’, or even ‘peevish’, but certainly never ‘cranky’. Dame Garnet had droned on and on about how a lady’s words were the foundation on which her character was judged, and that indulgence in coarse and unrefined language led to coarseness and unrefinement of thought. The life of censure that followed could easily be deduced from the woman’s stern gaze as it bore into her youthful charge.

Personally, Jade thought it was all a load of rubbish and had said so at the time. But _that_ had only earned her a lecture from her father on the difficulties of finding a qualified governess, and how _discontented _he would be if she managed to drive off her third one in two years. His bushy beard had twitched ominously during this warning and Jade had been suitably chastened. Since then, she’d usually managed to bite her tongue during lessons and keep all insubordinate thoughts to herself.

But that night, the little princess’s rebellious spirit was out in full force—not only with her choice of vocabulary but in the way she lay sprawled on a grassy bank beside the castle pond, heedless of the mess it was making of her satin gown. The gardens were empty that chill spring evening with not even the insects yet awoken from their winter slumber. It was peaceful and still, which suited Jade just fine. As she stared up at the glittering sky through the gaps in the tree above, she could almost believe herself to be alone in the world.

Almost—if not for the sounds of bustle and merriment spilling out of the Great Hall beyond. A particularly raucous laugh came floating out from one glowing window and she turned her head to scowl at it. As if in mockery of her annoyance, the laugh came even more loudly then, and she gathered up her skirts in a huff as she sat up.

Her eyes cast about for a moment before landing on a promising-looking rock nearby. Childish fingers dug it out of the dirt and she hefted it several times. Squinting at the glass pane to judge the distance, Jade pulled her arm back and threw with all her might. The rock clattered onto the flagstone pathway, several feet short of her goal.

“Temper, temper, Princess. What _would_ your father say if he could see you now?”

A tall figure appeared in her peripheral vision, but Jade refused to tear her gaze from the offending window that had somehow become symbolic of all the trials thrust upon her that night.

“I don’t _care_ what he would say, Jasper,” she replied, scowl deepening as her fingers busily searched for another rock. ”I’m sick of this party. I’d rather be sent to my room for the rest of the evening than have to endure _one more_ stuffy lord or lady trying to introduce me to their son.”

Jade punctuated this with another toss, the second stone joining the first on the garden path. As her lip jutted out in a decided pout, she saw the figure start to make its way around the pond. In moments, Jasper had flopped down onto the grass beside her, crossing his legs in a casual fashion at odds with the formality of his attire. His silvery-blond hair was gathered and tied at the nape of his neck as usual.

“An ambitious goal, but not insurmountable,” he said, gesturing toward the window. He turned to smile down at her and Jade felt slightly tongue-tied as their eyes met. The handsome young knight tended to have that effect on people, and the six-year-old princess couldn’t truthfully argue herself immune.

She broke the gaze with a toss of her head; boys of _any_ sort were _not_ on her good side that evening.

“Your choice of arsenal is appropriate to the task,” Jasper continued as he looked up at the castle once more. “You lack only the training and proper equipment to ensure your success.”

“Equipment?” Jade asked skeptically. “What sort of equipment do I need to throw a _stone?_”

“It is not what you _lack_ but what you _possess_, Princess.” He gingerly plucked at one of the voluminous bows clipped onto Jade’s gown. “This adornment restricts the movement of your shoulder. If you were to remove it, I am certain your range would increase.”

Mischief thoroughly piqued, Jade smirked at the young man. “And the training part?”

“I humbly offer my services to Your Highness, that your noble will be carried out,” he declared with an exaggerated bow. A giggle escaped the princess, and she immediately tugged at her shoulder ribbon while Jasper gathered more rocks.

With her partner-in-crime’s coaching, Jade had just managed to achieve a distance inches from the window when they were interrupted by a voice ringing out through the chilly air.

“Jasper? Are you out here?”

The source of this call appeared right behind it, in the form of another knight dressed in all the velvets and satins required for the occasion. Unlike his friend, however, Hendrik looked uncomfortable in his clothing, tugging at it distractedly as if he were slowly outgrowing it with every second that ticked by. The young man’s hair fell loose around his shoulders and his burgeoning beard had been carefully sculpted.

Jasper raised his hand in acknowledgement and Hendrik waved back, retracing the same steps his friend had taken as he joined them at the pond. When he arrived, he had just opened his mouth to speak when he suddenly spotted Jade, her chin already thrust out defiantly at what she _knew_ was to come.

“P-Princess Jade!” Hendrik cried in a strangled voice. “Whatever has happened to you? Your hair—the state of your _gown_—”

The little princess crossed her arms, a stone still clutched in her hand. “I’m training.”

“_Training_—” He rounded on Jasper then, but the blond knight only shrugged.

“Her Highness sought a diversion from the tedium of the party,” he explained in an offhand manner that Jade knew was expressly designed to drive his friend wild. “We live but to serve the royal house of Heliodor, do we not?”

Hendrik gaped at him. His wide eyes flitted from Jade’s discarded bow to the pile of stones nearby to the ammo littering the flagstones. Understanding dawned, and his face twisted with outrage.

“Are you _mad?_” he hissed at Jasper, taking an angry step forward with fists clenched. The other knight met his gaze unflinchingly. “Do you realize how furious the king will be when he finds out about this? Not to mention Dame Garnet, who directly _beseeched _me to retrieve the princess so that she might be introduced to Lord Triphane and his family?”

“There are worse things than a little dirt, Hendrik,” Jasper replied coolly. “If we sneak her up to her room, she can get changed before anyone realizes what happened—so long as _someone_ keeps his mouth shut before he gives the game away.”

“_Sneak_ her? And how do you propose we do _that?_” his friend retorted. “Cover her up in a blanket and inform the guests that we are simply rearranging the furniture?”

“At least I _have_ a plan instead of wagging my finger like some stern schoolmistress—”

Thoroughly offended by how ignorable she’d turned out to be, Jade stomped her foot on the grass. Two heads swivelled to look down at her in surprise.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” she cried, her own hands clenched into fists approximately a fifth the size of Hendrik’s. “I _won’t_ be going up to my room and I _won’t_ be returning to the party! I don’t care if I get in trouble for it!”

After a pause, Hendrik’s face softened and he crouched down in front of her. “I understand that such occasions can lack the excitement that a spirited young lady might desire,“ he started, his tone placating, but Jade was having none of it.

“I’m tired of meeting all these stupid noble boys and their parents,” she groused with a crankiness only a six-year-old could muster. “They don’t even care about me, they just want a stupid betrothal so their stupid sons can join the stupid _royal family of Heliodor_ someday.”

Jade was fairly sure that ‘stupid’ was _also_ on the list of words a proper lady never employed. Mentally she added another ‘stupid’ to her rant, just for good measure.

“Not inaccurate,” Jasper remarked from above. Hendrik shot him a glare before turning back to Jade.

“Be that as it may, Princess, it is still worth forming such social connections as you are able,” he continued in that gentle voice he only ever seemed to use with her. “These will be invaluable to you in the future, when you one day ascend the throne.”

Blue-green eyes looked earnestly into hers and Jade felt the beginnings of another pout coming on.

“There are always so many lessons and duties and introductions,” she sighed, petulantly tossing her stone to the ground. “Why can’t I go stay with Lady Eleanor instead? I’m sure the boys in _Dundrasil_ aren’t so annoying as Heliodor.”

She was startled by a burst of laughter from the young knights in front of her. 

“Trust me, Princess,” Jasper said with a smirk, “boys are the same the _entire_ world over.”

“There is truth in what my companion says,” Hendrik agreed, his lips also curving upward. Jade frowned at them, not sure if she was being made fun of somehow. 

“How about this, Princess Jade,” Jasper said, pushing back his coat tails and making her a perfectly elegant bow. “If, when you come of age, you find the noble scions of Heliodor _still_ not to your liking, then _I_ shall be your betrothed.”

“You?” Hendrik asked with amusement. Jade almost didn’t hear him; in the face of such noble gallantry, she had found herself entirely too breathless to speak.

“Why not?” Jasper replied with a toss of his long hair. “I hail from one of Heliodor’s oldest families, after all. The princess could not ask for a more dedicated—or skilled—companion.”

“Ah, of course,” his friend said with exaggerated sincerity. “The legendary prowess of the Heliodorian aristocracy. That would explain why I found myself the victor in four of our five sparring matches this week alone.”

“You dare challenge my worthiness, Sir Hendrik?” Jasper demanded in mock outrage. “Do you then _also_ put yourself forward as a competitor for our fair princess’s hand?”

Hendrik hesitated. Jade saw his eyes flick down to her as he presumably mulled over the impropriety of even _jokingly_ suggesting himself as a future suitor for his princess. Something twisted inside her, and she let out a huff to catch the knights’ attention once more.

“You’re both being ridiculous,” she told them with a roll of her eyes. “And I know you don’t mean it, anyway. I _saw _you sneaking off with Lady Peridot after supper the other night, Jasper.”

The purple-haired knight turned to stare at his friend. “You cannot be serious!” he said incredulously. “Did you not hear when Sir Albite threatened our very _lives_ if we went near his sister?”

Jasper shrugged, thoroughly unconcerned. “A harmless dalliance, nothing more. Is it any different from what _you_ do with Lady Beryl in dark stairwells?”

“What do—you cannot—that is a complete misrepresentation of our acquaintance!” Hendrik sputtered, a flush racing up his neck.

Somehow the conversation had taken a turn that Jade did _not_ at all approve of. Feeling more than a little cranky again, she had just resolved to go back to testing her newfound abilities at window-smashing when Jasper turned to her.

“Forgive the indiscretions of my youth, Princess,” he implored, his eyes filled with contrition. “If you would but grant me one more chance, then I will doubtless prove my worth to you.”

He reached out to her with an inviting hand; farce or not, Jade itched to take it, and had just resolved to lift her own when a sizeable stick was thrust between them.

“I cannot in good conscience allow such a scoundrel to make claim upon Your Highness’s hand,” Hendrik declared. He ostentatiously pulled off one of his formal gloves and tossed it to the ground. “I challenge you to a duel, Sir Jasper, with the princess’s favour in the balance.”

Jasper grinned and scanned the area before grabbing his own stick and twirling it with a flourish. He bent over to pick up the glove and contemptuously tossed it aside. “Very well, Sir Hendrik—I accept. May the best man win.”

He glanced down at Jade. “By your leave, Princess.”

They both looked at her expectantly and she blinked in confusion. “Oh,” she said after a moment. “Well then...begin!”

The knights made her solemn bows and then lunged at each other, their fierce battle cries ringing through the cool night air. Jade watched with held breath as the two young men sparred in their mock duel, sticks clattering with each parry and block. They laughed and shouted taunts at each other as they fought, and she marvelled at this friendship that could go from anger to camaraderie in a matter of minutes. She’d witnessed many of their squabbles over those few years she could remember and had seen that no matter the argument, they always came back to each other. She wondered if they always would.

She wondered...if they’d always be there for _her_.

It was a tree root that made all the difference. Hendrik had used his bulk to force Jasper into a defensive position, pushing him further back toward the water. With a loud cry he thrust his stick forward and Jasper leaned back to parry without noticing the unevenness of the bank. He tripped over the root and frantically flailed to keep his balance before gravity took him and he crashed directly into the pond.

“Jasper!” Hendrik cried out as he rushed down to the water’s edge. Jade scrambled to follow, ignoring the mud as her shoes sank into the soft ground. There was a loud splashing from the pond and she craned to see around the tall knight, her heart clenched with worry.

“I am unharmed—not counting my pride,” came a resigned voice.

Jasper’s head popped into her view and she saw him brush dripping hair out of his eyes. He reached out to grab his friend’s offered hand and returned to dry land once more. The three of them—between soaked clothing, muddy shoes, and stained garments—made quite a spectacle.

“Well, are _we_ not a matched set now?” Jasper said with distaste as he tried to wring out his doublet.

“And unlike the pond, about to find ourselves in _thoroughly_ hot water,” Hendrik sighed. 

Jade felt her stomach sink as she stared up at them. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was her fault somehow, that if she had just stayed at the party like she was supposed to, Hendrik and Jasper wouldn’t be getting into trouble for her sake, once again—

“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice, head drooping. “I shouldn’t have...it’s all my...I’m very sorry.”

“You need not apologize, Your Highness,” Hendrik assured her. He shifted in his boots and she heard a squelching sound. “The decision to spar was mine and Jasper’s alone, and we will report it as such.”

Jasper let out a loud sigh as he reached up to re-tie his long hair. “Alas, fair maiden, I fear I have lost the day. But rest assured that I would fall into a _thousand_ such ponds if it would only bring a smile to your face.”

He prodded a finger into Hendrik’s shoulder and the other knight jolted. “Well, go on then, Hendrik. You have proven yourself to be the better man yet again, and your lady awaits.”

“You _do_ speak such nonsense, Jasper,” Hendrik scowled at his friend. But then he turned to Jade and knelt before her, solemnly laying his stick on the ground in a knight’s supplication. 

“Princess Jade,” Hendrik said with such grave formality that she could almost believe him sincere. “It would do me the greatest honour to someday earn the right to seek your hand in marriage. I must admit I fear for my chances, however, as you will doubtless grow up so lovely that you shall have your pick of suitors and spare no thought for a humble knight in your father’s service.”

He paused and looked up at her, and she could see the mirth in his still-boyish eyes. “I ask only that you remember the bond we forged here in our youth, and spurn me with as much grace and compassion as befits the future queen of my realm.”

Jade couldn’t help it: she burst into giggles.

“Ouch,” Jasper said with an exaggerated wince. “Perhaps this is a sign you should practice your proposing skills before the time _really_ comes, Hendrik.”

“Perhaps this is a sign you should learn to _hold your tongue_, Jasper—”

Hendrik had just scrambled up—against all sense, propriety, and good judgement—to start the battle anew, when the sound of Jade’s governess floated out through the gardens: “Princess Jade? Are you out here, dear?”

“Oh no,” the little princess groaned, the consequences of her impulsive behaviour finally catching up to her. There would be lectures for certain, both from her father _and _Dame Garnet, and probably line-writing as well. _Lots_ of lines; her hand would be stained for weeks. She secretly vowed to slip in one ‘stupid’ where it was least likely to be seen.

“Cheer up, Princess,” Jasper consoled her as the unkempt knights escorted their princess back to the castle. “She might be so horrified by _our_ state that she misses you entirely.”

“There is always hope in this world, if nothing else,” Hendrik declared staunchly. He smiled down at Jade, a comfortable, reassuring thing that filled her with warmth despite her fears.

They were wrong, of course, and the hell that was raised afterwards would be whispered about by the castle servants for _years _to come. But the princess couldn’t bring herself to regret any of it when she lay in her enormous bed that night, her fingers already cramping with phantom pains.

Her first proposal. Whatever else happened in her life, she would always have that, wouldn’t she?


	2. Before: Octagonia | After: Havens Above

╔══════════════╗  
**Before: Octagonia**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


Octagonia. The city without sunlight, where fighters the world over had once come to prove their worth in righteous competition.

Hendrik had never been fond of the place. He preferred crisp, open air and rolling fields as far as the eye could see; even the surroundings of the city were too rock-strewn and desolate for his tastes. Moreover, after having achieved a modest amount of fame in the area some years past, the citizens had bafflingly decided to erect a _statue_ of him: a grotesquely garish piece that loomed inescapably over the town’s interior. He could even now recall the chagrin he had felt upon first beholding it, with all its pronouncement of acclaim so antithetical to a knight’s purpose.

But now, glowering up at a very _altered_ version of that same statue, he began to wonder if his fervent, years-long wish for its removal had somehow backfired upon him.

After another moment, he tore his gaze from the odious sculpture and adjusted himself against the railing on which he leaned. It was a small alcove, away from the bustle of the town proper, as well as a citizenry who _still_ managed to recognize him despite his nondescript travel clothes. Though honoured by their acknowledgement, his present mood did not lend itself to trivial chatter or unearned flattery, and he had sought his withdrawal eagerly.

The notion of flattery brought _another_ unwelcome thought to mind—one he had not the slightest idea how to grapple with as yet. Well used to—and resigned by—his own minor renown, he had already seen how much that paled in comparison to certain more...prominent physical characteristics. Particularly those possessed by the _newest_ member of their party, with her singular—

“What are you doing up here, Hendrik?”

The knight jerked back and spun around at the sound of the quiet voice nearby. Princess Jade stood before him, one hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised at his startled reaction.

Hendrik felt an immediate wave of guilt wash over him. Not a full day since her rescue from unimaginable suffering at the hands of the villainous Booga, and he dared devote a single thought to the unease her presence invoked? The king would have only the harshest of words for him if he knew, and Hendrik would deserve every one of them.

“P-Princess Jade,” he stuttered in response. His fist automatically went to his heart and he bowed low, hoping to in some small way atone for his mental transgressions.

“You really don’t have to do that, you know,” she said as she joined him at the railing. Hendrik looked at her in confusion and she smiled slightly. “The bowing, I mean. It’s probably best to keep a low profile, anyway.”

“Ah.” Hendrik coughed into his hand and straightened. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”

Did the princess roll her eyes then, or was it a trick of the dim lighting? “And you don’t have to keep apologizing. We’re all in this together now, remember?”

He swallowed another instinctive apology and turned to look out over the city while he collected his composure. Somehow a mere _minute_ of conversation with his princess had thrown him so off-balance that even a Dracky could score a cutting blow.

“Of course, Princess,” he finally managed.

She hummed in response and rested her elbows on the railing, taking care not to lean too far forward. The bottom floor was a considerable distance below and it seemed the princess still retained some of her childhood fear of heights.

Hendrik instantly felt a bit better at that; this unfathomable woman with steel in her eyes was perhaps not so different from the girl he had known after all.

“How fare our companions?” he asked after a pause.

“They’re at the casino,” she replied. “I think there are still a few forging recipes we need before we can move on.”

This time Hendrik definitely _did _see the impatient rolling of her eyes, although a smile accompanied it. “Rab’s busy flirting with the casino girls, of course. Too much to hope that _he’d_ drop any bad habits these past few months.”

“Lord Robert can be quite...set in his ways at times,” Hendrik acknowledged. “But he has endured much since Yggdrasil’s fall—as have we all.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Princess Jade sighed, her face turning pensive as the smile fell from it. Hendrik immediately regretted his remark, and would have given much for the power to erase it from history. The princess surprised him, however, when her lips curved slyly and she gestured out over the railing.

“I think perhaps that statue of yours has endured the worst of all. Not much of an improvement over the original, is it?”

Hendrik frowned, torn between his relief at the princess’s ability to make light of her ordeal and his displeasure at having to even _consider _the ghastly object again. “I had often found myself secretly wishing for some harm to befall it—at no inconvenience to the townspeople, of course—but this...”

“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” she teased with a light poke to his arm. “They didn’t get your nose quite right, but the important parts were all there.”

“As you say, Princess,” he replied, inwardly burning with curiosity to know what ‘important parts’ she was referring to. “You had, er, seen it previously, then?”

The princess nodded. “Rab and I travelled here a few times over the years. That statue gave me the shock of my life when I first saw it, but after a while...” She turned away from him again and one of her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It was sort of comforting, in a strange way.”

Hendrik had absolutely no idea what to do with that. Fortunately, the princess apparently decided the avenue of conversation exhausted and pushed back from the railing.

“I was thinking of visiting the orphanage,” she told him. “Would you care to join me?”

“Certainly,” he agreed at once, nearly overcome by the princess’s deliberate solicitation of his company. Perhaps this transition would be easier than he had feared; there was much journeying still ahead of them, where he had hopes they might come to know one another and he could learn how best to serve his future queen. And if they eventually approached something akin to a friendship again, so much the better.

The two made their way from the alcove down to the lower levels of town. They passed by a milling crowd waiting their turn to enter the casino, and Hendrik saw Princess Jade look upon it with some distaste.

“I cannot say I approve of the replacement of a healthy martial arts competition with such...iniquitous pastimes,” he remarked with disapproval.

“I definitely agree with you there.” She threw him a smirk. “Perhaps we could help bring it back after all this is over. ‘Warrior Princess of Heliodor vs. The Mightiest Knight in Erdrea’ _would _be quite a headline, wouldn’t it?”

Hendrik cleared his throat uncomfortably. The memory of certain...unorthodox tactics she had employed in their recent battle still lingered too freshly in his mind. “Ah—we might discuss it later on, Your Highness.”

She gave him a searching look, but mercifully let it drop.

Their route through the town was uneventful, and they had no sooner reached the threshold of the orphanage when a gaggle of children descended upon the princess.

“Miss Jade!” they cried delightedly. “You’re back! We _knew _you’d save the town!”

Her smile faltered a bit at that, but quickly regained its strength in the face of such a warm welcoming. There were others inside the orphanage—a repurposed chapel, from what Hendrik could tell—and she was soon chatting with several formidable-looking warriors with whom she had an apparent acquaintance.

Hendrik stood a little apart, enjoying this rare moment of joy in a too often dreary world, when he was distracted by a tugging on his tunic. He looked down to see a small boy staring up at him.

“Yes?” he inquired.

“Are you—are you Sir Hendrik of Heliodor?” the boy demanded, his eyes wide.

Hendrik inwardly sighed; children were his most perplexing admirers, and he never knew quite what they wanted from him. Still, a knight must be gracious above all else, and he mentally marshalled himself for the endless questions that would inevitably follow.

Before he could answer, however, a voice boomed out from a nearby hallway: “Of course he is, man!”

An enormous man—possibly rivalling even Hendrik himself in size—strode over with a hand outstretched. “Sir Hendrik! Wow, I can’t believe it! I’m basically your biggest fan!”

Hendrik clasped the offered hand with some confusion and nearly winced at the strength of its grip. His soldier’s spirit assessed the man as a potentially interesting challenger. “I thank you for the compliment. Might I inquire as to your name?”

The man withdrew his hand and clapped it to his forehead. “Oh—of course! Sorry man, I’m Vince Vanquish.”

_That _explained quite a bit. “I should have guessed,” Hendrik said with a slight smile. “I have heard much of your prowess in the tournament.”

“Seriously?” Vince exclaimed. “_The_ Sir Hendrik has heard of me? You’re the reason I even entered in the first place! You were my _idol_ growing up.”

“Ah...” Hendrik was starting to feel slightly itchy around the collar. He furtively cast about for Princess Jade, but she was immersed in conversation with two fierce-looking women.

“You flatter me, Mr Vanquish,” he said awkwardly, determining to think up a reason to decamp from the interaction if it continued along such discomfiting lines.

Vince shook his head vigorously; Hendrik began to wonder if the man’s seeming refusal to open his eyes was due to some unknown malady. “No way, man, you’re a legend around here! Not just anyone can get a whole statue put up of him, you know?”

He paused and scratched at his bandana. “I mean, I’m sure they’re gettin’ around to fixin’ it soon. Probably.”

“Well, my accomplishments were not so...It is unnecessary to...” The knight desperately flailed for and landed on what he _hoped_ was an appropriately courteous response. “I...I am certain that if _you_ were to face up against the Arachtagon as I once did, it would have been equally vanquished.”

Hendrik coughed, then added: “Ah...so to speak.”

He was astonished to see Vince turn suddenly pale and take a step backward. The next moment Princess Jade was again at his side, making hurried good-byes as she ushered him out the doors of the orphanage.

Thoroughly bewildered, Hendrik turned to his princess when they reached the street. “Is there some problem, Your Highness?”

“Not as such,” she assured him with a strange smile. “It’s...sort of a long story, actually, and I thought it prudent to get you as far away as possible before you heard certain parts of it.”

“Do you think me so easily offended?” he asked, offended.

“When it involves the princess of Heliodor being kidnapped by the very man you were just complimenting? I can almost guarantee it,” she said archly.

“You—that—he _what?_” Hendrik whirled around with one hand already on his sword hilt before the princess grabbed him by the arm and insistently pulled him toward the staircase.

“See what I mean?” she asked with another rolling of her eyes. “Why don’t we gather the others and find some supper instead of enacting righteous vengeance upon the poor people of this town?”

Thoroughly disgruntled but unwilling to disobey royal command, Hendrik allowed himself to be led by his princess back to the upper levels of town. He did, however, resolve to speak to the mayor about a proper vetting of all future statue candidates _before _they were erected, and forced himself to be content with that.  
  


╔══════════════╗  
**After: Havens Above**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


An actual city in the sky. It was almost too fantastical to believe, even as Jade climbed the winding pathway to the Place of Legends and watched fluffy white clouds floating by underneath her feet. But then, was it any stranger than having taken a _flying whale_ to get there? She honestly couldn’t decide.

She passed several of the little Watchers as she went and nodded to them politely. They had an air of constant preoccupation about them, although she couldn’t determine what anyone actually _did_ in Havens Above. That their Elder seemed to awaken only once a generation spoke strongly of their casual attitude towards such mundane surface concepts as time, or even basic scheduling.

At least they weren’t so otherworldly that they didn’t understand good business. She’d been interested in several of the pieces at the equipment shop, if she could only...

Well. There would be a chance later, surely.

Jade had just reached the top of the path when she heard two familiar voices coming from a grassy nook nearby. She turned her head to behold a sight as amusing as it was peculiar.

Hendrik and Veronica were sitting together on a fallen log repurposed as an impromptu bench. Their heads were bowed as they scrutinized a large tome that Veronica clutched in her lap, Hendrik almost craning his neck out of joint due to his much—_much_—loftier height. They were an absurdly matched pair, and it was only the seriousness of their expressions that made Jade swallow down the laughter that threatened to spill out of her.

“_There_,” the diminutive sorceress was saying, prodding at an illustration with her finger. “If you both focus your powers on a single point, I _should_ be able to infuse it with my spell.”

“Do you think it best that the Luminary and I equip swords for this endeavour?” Hendrik asked her.

Veronica pursed her lips as she considered that. “Probably. Blades are usually easiest when you’re dealing with summoning magic.” She flipped through several other pages. “Did you have any preference about the animal spirit? It could be just about anything, I guess—”

“A horse,” Hendrik said promptly.

She smirked up at him. “You’re not even going to think about it?”

“I am fond of horses,” he replied with a shrug.

“_Really?_” Veronica’s cap jiggled as she turned back to her book. “I don’t think any of us ever noticed, what with the _hundred _times you’ve already talked about Obsidian this week.”

It was then that they noticed Jade watching them from the path. Hendrik practically lurched up from his seat in order to perform a hasty bow and Veronica gave her a wave. Jade waved back before turning and continuing on to the Place of Legends. She hoped that Hendrik wouldn’t interrupt their work in order to follow her; knightly protocol was attentive, reliable, and often _completely_ inconvenient.

She couldn’t help a glance back as she went, though. Hendrik was—thank goodness—sitting down again beside the sorceress, his back hunched over as she animatedly explained some diagram to him. It sparked a strange half-memory in the princess: of another little girl and her respectful companion sitting together among the flowers as they pored over thrilling tales of adventure and storybook romance.

Was that how they’d looked back then? She would have been about Veronica’s size, though he hadn’t quite reached such...robustness of form yet. It’d be hard for the younger her to believe he _could_ get any larger; he’d always seemed more boulder than boy to her, if a boulder could be such a ready offerer of piggyback rides as Hendrik once had been.

Jade shook her head, memories scattering out into the wind. She’d long made a habit of trying not to think about those days, not wanting anything to distract her from her goals. But sometimes even warrior princesses with the fate of the world resting on their shoulders slipped into sentimentality, she supposed.

The Place of Legends was just as impressive the second time as the first. She climbed the ramp leading up to the mural and slowly walked along it, studying the engravings with interest. Jade knew little about art, but surely _anyone_ would be fascinated by a creation almost as old as the world itself.

Her attention turned next to the statues. She was making her way down the ramp to view them when she tripped and banged her knee sharply against the stonework, letting out a sharp cry. When she looked up again she saw the sleeping Eegoltap several feet away and instantly felt a rush of chagrin.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized in a low voice to a nearby Watcher. “I hope I didn’t wake him.”

“ELDER SLEEPS LONG,” the creature told her. “THROUGH MANY THUNDERSTORMS. EVEN HURRICANE ONCE.” An answer that raised possibly more questions than it intended, but Jade felt reassured nonetheless.

She had just started examining the statue of Drustan when knightly vigilance finally caught up with her.

“Princess Jade,” Hendrik greeted her as joined her before the impressively detailed sculpture.

“Hendrik,” she acknowledged. She thought about asking him if he _really_ intended on calling her by her title the entire time they journeyed together, and decided that it would probably be a waste of breath.

“Have you and Veronica sorted out your new ability?” she asked instead.

Hendrik nodded. “The sorceress has only to memorize the incantation before we test it out on the field, with the Luminary’s assistance.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing it,” she smiled. “We’ve all got a lot of new powers to try out—I can’t wait to figure out how some of my own work.”

“As you say, Princess,” he agreed.

They lapsed into silence then, both staring up at the statue. Jade found herself feeling...a trifle _awkward_ for some reason. It wasn’t about Hendrik’s having so recently joined their close-knit party, exactly; it had felt natural to include him, almost strangely so, as if a spot for him had been waiting all along. But she hadn’t really been alone with him since then, and now it seemed to be bringing all sorts of _something_ to the forefront—not to be overly articulate about it.

“I have wondered, Your Highness,” Hendrik said suddenly.

“What is it?” she asked, breaking her gaze from the statue to look up at him.

“How fare you with our stay in this town?” His brows pushed together as he spoke and she could see the concern in his eyes. “The heights are quite precipitous, and I did not know if you were masking some distress.”

Jade blinked. “Oh. I’m surprised you remembered that.”

Hendrik smiled, a startling expression in a face of such stern resolve. “Was I not the one who had to climb nearly to the top of the great oak in the gardens to rescue a princess whose ambition exceeded her nerve?”

She huffed a laugh and absently rubbed at one arm. “I still maintain that I could have gotten down on my own—eventually.”

“Ah, of course,” he nodded, still smiling. It made him look almost boyish somehow, and sent a bloom of warmth through her chest. “And horses might someday take flight, too, if given ample time and motivation.”

“We _did_ come here on a flying whale, you realize,” Jade pointed out.

“A fair point,” he conceded.

“To return to the question,” she continued, “I’m doing all right, actually. It’s...perhaps not my favourite place in Erdrea, but after all this, I won’t let a little fear of heights stop me now.”

Hendrik looked relieved at that and gave her a nod. Again they turned to the statue and fell silent for a time. Now, however, Jade felt herself much more at ease than before. Inexorable Hero of Heliodor that he may be, she could still see the traces of the young man she’d once known so well, who shared in a part of her history that no else one had for a very long time.

Perhaps memories didn’t _have_ to be painful, if there were only someone friendly to remember them with.

Jade gestured to the statue, more to move past her own thoughts than for the conversation. “It’s impressive craftsmanship, wouldn’t you say?”

“Truly,” Hendrik agreed. He paused for a moment. “The Watchers have told me that I remind them greatly of Drustan. I must confess I do not see it myself, though I am honoured by the compliment.”

“I don’t know,” Jade mused, her eyes lingering on certain very intriguing aspects of the statue. “You have at least a _few_ substantial things in common.”

Hendrik threw her a questioning look but she shook her head before speaking on: “Who knows? Maybe someday they’ll erect statues of _us_ here after we save the world.”

“That would not be necessary,” he replied, coughing uncomfortably into his hand. “Whatever else happens, the Luminary is the true Hero of Legend, and we only offer such assistance as he requires.”

“What’s the matter, Hendrik?” she teased with a poke to his arm. “Worried they won’t get your nose right again—just like Octagonia?”

“P-Princess, please,” he stammered. “I have taken care for many years to wipe all memory of that odious statue’s existence from my head—”

“It looked just as splendid as ever, last time I was there,” she continued relentlessly. “Almost like a guardian spirit enveloping the town in its noble benevolence.”

Hendrik sighed and shut his eyes tight in pain. Jade was just about to follow up on her advantage with all the mockery a man like him deserved, when they were interrupted by Veronica’s joining them.

“I think I’ve got it all ready,” she told Hendrik, the enormous book clasped tightly in her arms. “We just need to find the Luminary and test it out.”

“Very well,” he nodded. He had mostly regained his composure, but Jade observed with delight that a slight flush lingered on his neck.

The sorceress turned to Jade. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were going with Erik to the weapons shop.”

“I was,” she said slowly, fingers fidgeting with her arm guards. “But then he took the platform without me and when I tried to follow, I...well, that is...”

Veronica grinned up at her. “You realized there were approximately a _million_ miles between you and the ground and chickened out?”

“It was more of a tactical retreat,” Jade corrected.

Hendrik had a look of pure dismay on his face as he stared at her. “Princess, if I had known that you remained on this island due only to your own discomfort—”

“It’s fine,” she said with a roll of her eyes as she waved him toward the exit. “We’ll all go over together, all right?”

They were halfway down the pathway when Veronica suddenly stopped. Jade nearly ran into her and desperately clutched at Hendrik’s arm as she regained her balance. It was a much more solid arm than when she’d been a child, and she wholeheartedly approved of that change in the face of potential death-by-tripping-over-sorceress.

Hendrik looked worriedly down at her and she smiled at him in reassurance; at least _some_ things could always be counted on.

Heedless of the dangers herself, Veronica hefted the book in her arms and squinted at her companions. “I actually had a new ability in mind for the two of _you _and the Luminary,” the girl said, “but this heights problem might be a bit of a complication.”

She paused. “How do the both of you feel about flying?”


	3. Before: Nautica | After: Angri-La

╔══════════════╗  
**Before: Nautica**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


The most entertaining part, Jade decided, was that Hendrik had absolutely no idea where to rest his gaze.

Oh, it’d been amusing enough when they’d first gone through the portal: he’d immediately doubled over, clutching at his throat with choked gasps only to realize they were all perfectly well. But it was hard to linger on that in the face of poor Erik’s reaction. The young thief had been confused but not overly so, as if some half-hidden remembrance flitted about just below the surface. Jade had seen how her friends’ faces had fallen, and joined in their sadness. If a magical journey under the sea wasn’t enough to spark his memory, what hope still remained?

No, much better to focus on how very desperately Hendrik was attempting _not_ to ogle the wealth of aquatic beauty before him—and she didn’t mean the fish.

Their first stop was Queen Marina’s palace, to assure themselves of her well-being and gather what information she could provide. The city didn’t _look_ very disturbed from what Jade could see, but it was hard to say how deep the damage from Alizarin’s attack extended. Places of such unearthly beauty as this were few and far between in Erdrea these days.

A group (school? shoal?) of particularly buxom mermaids swam past them on the path and Jade watched with amusement as Hendrik practically tripped over his own two feet in his goggling. She leaned in toward the knight.

“Careful, Hendrik,” she murmured. “We wouldn’t want your eyes to fall right out of your head—I fear they’d become fish food.”

He started guiltily and made some show of clearing his throat before affixing himself forward again, back rigid and hands clenched into fists at his side. Jade smiled to herself and shook her head. Honestly, he was thirty-six years old as of his last birthday—not that she’d been keeping track—and _still _acted like a fresh-faced trainee around beautiful women.

The queen’s palace was just as majestic as Jade remembered, and the queen herself even more so. It was almost unfair how one woman could be so wise, powerful, _and_ stunning, but Jade had never been one for useless envy. She watched as Queen Marina greeted each of her companions in turn, hoping that someday _she _might achieve such a level of elegance and poise—ideally _before_ her three hundredth birthday.

The queen looked down solemnly when she reached Hendrik. “Long have I observed your plight beyond these restless waves. The hope you’ve brought to desperate souls is just what this world craves.”

Hendrik stared at her in consternation before making a low bow.

“You...are much too kind, Your Majesty,” he stammered. “I have done only what my duty commanded of me.”

She smiled, both making herself improbably lovelier _and_ flustering Hendrik even further. “Such modesty becomes you, hero of your fallen land, and with your friends there is no peril you cannot withstand.”

He stuttered out another response made coherent only by years of rigid protocol training, and then Queen Marina turned to Jade. The princess pulled from her dim memories an exquisitely proper curtsey.

“I’m glad to see you well, Your Majesty,” she said. “When all this is over and Mordegon defeated, I’d love to be able to return here and speak with you. I feel there’s much I could learn about how to rule a kingdom.”

The queen nodded approvingly and Jade’s heart soared. “A princess wise as she is fair; I welcome your proposal. Just name the day and I will put myself at your disposal.” 

Soon after that, the party dispersed into the town again. There were shops to check and an inevitable assortment of mermaids and mermen with strange requests to fulfill. Underwater or not, some things never changed.

Feeling tired all of a sudden, Jade decided to take a rest on a seat of coral a bit away from the bustle. From there she had an excellent vantage point of her friends’ efforts to engage with the denizens of this strange kingdom.

Sylvando had a cluster of excited merpeople around him as he attempted to play his horn, though the magical enchantment seemed to work much less well on instruments as it did lungs. Erik wandered about without clear purpose, blinking up at the sights and jolting with surprise whenever anyone spoke to him. Rab wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but Jade would have sworn on her life that he was flirting with _some_ lovely mermaid or another. His grandson was likewise missing; she did see a fish earlier carrying what looked suspiciously like his pack, and she wondered if he’d misplaced it.

Her eyes had to scan only a moment before she caught sight of Hendrik’s large form. He strode along the main path, earnestly speaking to townspeople in turn. She could almost imagine his voice as he carefully questioned them on their problems, committing the details to memory so he could relate them to the group afterward. He seemed to be taking care to talk only to mer_men_ where he could, she noted with a smile.

A mermaid swam up beside Jade and leaned against the coral, her pointed chin propped up in one hand. She gestured toward Hendrik with her free one. “Though surface-dwellers aren’t my choice, I find my heart is shaken. Tell me, do you know if that impressive man is taken?”

Jade blinked for a moment at the girl’s boldness. It seemed merpeople put a lot more stock in _directness_ than the rest of Erdrea.

“Not to my knowledge,” she replied, feeling fairly confident in her assumption of his romantic status. Then, some unknown urge prompted her to add: “But I’m not sure he’d be interested. He’s very...duty-focused, you see.”

The mermaid let out a long sigh. “A man consumed by life’s stern charge? That really is a shame. I guess I’ll have to make the _blue_-haired one my heart’s true aim.”

Without another word, she flitted off through the water in the direction Erik had last gone. Jade shook her head in bewilderment; perhaps she’d come to understand this place better over time. She _hoped_ so, at any rate. But the day was marching on, and she’d better join the others in questioning the townspeople for information.

Eventually they all gathered together again to share what they’d learned and make preparations to return to the surface.

“I can’t believe my instruments don’t work down here,” Sylvando grumbled. “Did you _see_ the crowd I’d gathered, darlings? From land to sea, the Great Sylvando never disappoints!”

Rab stroked his bushy mustache. “Och, no luck here with the equipment shop—not sure that blasted fin-back even understood me. But my laddie seemed to do better than his auld grandfather, at least.”

He gestured to his grandson, who sheepishly held up an assortment of weaponry and armour. Jade saw a few items she was _very _interested in taking a closer look at later.

“I just kinda wandered around, I guess,” Erik shrugged. “I thought a couple times I saw something that maybe...but nah, nothing.”

“Not much to report here either,” Jade told them. “It seems we’re less useful to the people of the sea than we thought.”

They all then looked expectantly at Hendrik. An immediate flush bloomed on his neck and he coughed into his fist.

“I received a request from a young barrister,” he said in a tone of forced calm. “She was most insistent upon my hearing it and, ah, chased me down on the street to speak with me. She spoke of a cache of notes from her former mentor that would help her case in court, and bid us to retrieve it with all possible haste.”

“And what did she promise in return, honey?” Sylvando asked him in an overly innocent voice.

Hendrik’s neck turned redder. “Some...sort of adornment, I believe. It may well prove useful in battle.”

“An _adornment?_” Jade asked, instinctively copying Sylvando’s tone. “Is _that_ all? Are you certain there weren’t any more..._personal_ rewards mentioned, Henny-Wenny?”

“Maybe to be given in some quiet, romantic clearing of seaweed?” Sylvando added slyly.

“C-Certainly not!” Hendrik exclaimed, likely heating up the water around his face by that point.

Jade tapped her cheek with her finger and made some show of thoughtfulness. “Well, perhaps we should take it on regardless. We can let Hendrik decide later what sort of _compensation_ he’s willing to accept.”

“Your Highness, _please_—”

“Are you guys always like this?” Erik wondered aloud.

“Too often by half, if ye ask me,” Rab chuckled. “Incorrigible, the lot of them.”

Erik rubbed at his neck. “I don’t know. It’s funny, but I almost...remember it, somehow. It feels kinda like...like being friends.”

Sylvando slung an arm around the thief’s shoulders and Erik blinked at him uncertainly.

“Oh darling, don’t you worry—we’ll have you back to your wonderful, grumpy self in no time.” Sylvando’s face spread in a grin. “If nothing else, I’m sure one scolding by dear old Ronnie will bring the whole _thing_ flooding back!”

“On that note, hadn’t we better move on?” Jade suggested. “We should check what new parts of the world we have access to now, and I’m sure we’ll hear something of the twins along the way.”

“Then off to the Salty Stallion and onward to adventure!” Sylvando struck a dramatic pose before marching down the pathway, the others following closely behind.

Jade glanced over to see Hendrik standing in place, still a bit red around the ears as he stared back toward the town. She almost felt bad, then, for teasing him; whatever he lacked in composure with the fairer sex was more than made up for by his loyalty and determination. Truth be told, she wouldn’t want him to be any different, anyway.

“Coming?” she asked him. At the sound of her voice he seemed to snap out of his daze and shook his head.

“Of course, Princess,” he said, and they walked out into the cave together.  
  


╔══════════════╗  
**After: Angri-La**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


“Sir Hendrik, sir—is there anything else we might help you with? Should we be making preparations to join your expedition?”

The face of the young soldier before him burned with sincerity and a truly laudable desire to serve. Hendrik felt satisfaction course through him at that; even so far from the kingdom as Mount Pang Lai, the might and discipline of the Heliodorian army must never be questioned.

“No, Sergeant,” he responded. “I would ask that you and your troops stay with these good people and offer them such assistance as you are able.”

“Yes, sir!” The soldier snapped a crisp salute. Then he hesitated. “Truthfully, sir, I’m just as happy to stay. We’ve felt...well, rather badly about the siege and all. I know we were only following Sir Jasper’s orders, but...”

An undercurrent of displeasure replaced the satisfaction and Hendrik’s lips pressed together. “You have done well, Sergeant,” he said shortly. “Carry on.” Another salute and then Hendrik turned and stalked out of the room, his gloved fingers twitching.

The temple at Angri-La teemed with visitors despite the treacherousness of the path up the mountain. Once the soldiers at the gate had relinquished their post, pilgrims and warriors alike had journeyed to the fabled destination, eager to attribute some sense or meaning to the world’s recent calamities. An understandable purpose; but at that moment, Hendrik very much wished them to seek their answers in a place _not_ directly in his path.

After escaping the main hall, he wandered the temple for a time, unusually aimless. For a man who lived and died by the rigid scheduling required of his office, it was discomfiting not to have a clear objective or duty to perform. The Luminary had brought them there to hone their skills before the final battle with foul Calasmos, but at that moment the young man was training alone with Grand Master Pang. Hendrik was glad of it, of course; it was the prince of Dundrasil’s birthright to receive such instruction. But it did mean a break from their grueling attempts at the Wheel of Harma, leaving the rest of the party rather at loose ends.

Hendrik’s steps eventually took him up to the High Hall above the temple. He nodded to the various monks he met along the way, not wishing to disturb their peace with frivolous conversation. The late afternoon sky was overcast and the air crisp when he finally made his way to the Field of Discipline. Failing any other source of inspiration, a short training session of his own seemed the wisest course of action.

He heard Lord Robert’s distinctive Drasilian accent before he even walked through the door, followed by a quieter voice he instantly recognized as that of the princess. A quick scan of the area retrieved them: they had apparently shared in Hendrik’s design and were in the middle of a sparring match.

“What’s the matter, old man?” Princess Jade taunted as she readied a fierce kick. “Giving up so soon?”

“Ye’d do well to mind yer cheek, lass,” Lord Robert retorted with a scowl. “Dinnae forget who taught ye everything ye know.”

His arms moved through the air in a well-practiced gesture and a bright beam of light headed toward the princess. She dodged it easily and immediately launched into a counterattack, her foot thrusting so quickly it seemed but a blur in the cool mountain air. One of the kicks scored a direct hit and Lord Robert fell heavily to the floor.

“Crivens, my backside!” Lord Robert grunted, rubbing at the mentioned body part with a wince. “I havenae felt _that_ kind of pain since the days of the Naughty Stick.”

The princess rolled her eyes as she walked over and held out a hand to him. “Not the story of the Red-Cheeked Seeker _again_. You’ve been entirely too pleased about your level of fame here.”

Lord Robert allowed himself to be pulled back onto his feet. “Well, if _ye’d _suffered through ten thousand strokes of Grand Master Pang’s finest paddling technique, ye’d well change yer tune, lassie.”

“That’s something I think I’ll take a pass on, thanks.”

Hendrik smiled slightly as he observed their easy banter. However much it pained his heart to consider the long years the princess had been exiled from her home, he was grateful for her to have had such a steadfast guardian as the former king of Dundrasil. The man had his predilections and peculiarities, to be sure, but he could have asked for no kinder or wiser companion for his future queen during her time of need.

“I see you are putting our respite to good use,” the knight said as he approached them.

“Hendrik!” Lord Robert beamed. “Ye’re just in time, lad. Much as I hate to admit it, I think Jade here may have a point about my staying power these days.”

“That’s a first,” she smiled, a trifle fondly.

“Hush, lass.” He threw her a glare and then turned back to the knight. “What d’ye say, Hendrik? Willing to take my place and save an auld man’s hindquarters from further torment?”

Hendrik felt a jolt of apprehension. In truth, he had not crossed swords—or spear—with the princess since their fateful encounter at the ruins of Dundrasil. It was not unusual for some in their party to train together during quiet nights around the campfire, but for whatever reason the two of them had never happened to pair off together.

Until now, it seemed.

“I, er...” Hendrik’s instinctive objections faded in the face of Princess Jade’s backing up on the stone floor to allow ample room for movement.

“An excellent idea,” she said with a smirk. Her gloved hands came up and she settled into her opening stance. “I’ve been waiting for a rematch, Sir Hendrik.”

Lord Robert clapped his hands together. “There ye have it! Now, if ye two dinnae mind, I’ll just toddle off for a nip of supper in the dining hall...”

In a quicker amount of time than Hendrik had ever imagined such a stout man to move, he vanished through the doorway, leaving the knight and his princess alone on the field.

Hendrik swallowed hard. Though he knew Princess Jade to be a more than capable warrior, he could not help the disquiet that wormed its way through him. “Is this...truly your desire, Your Highness?”

“Having second thoughts, Henny-Wenny?” she teased, one eyebrow quirked in challenge. “If those thirty-six years are weighing too heavily today, I can try to go easy on you.”

Her use of that childhood nickname even further unsettled him, especially contrasted against his age. Hendrik was not certain _how_ she had known the exact number, but that was a question for another time.

“Very well, Princess,” he said, drawing his sword from his hip. He knew he need not ask if she would prefer the use of wooden training weapons; more likely by far that it would offend than please her.

Princess Jade waited until he took his place before her and then launched into an attack. His blade flew up to parry each blow of her booted foot until she fell back, panting. A feint then, and he spun around just in time to block her next assault, sword near blurring in his attempts to keep up with her. It was a well-chosen battlefield, perfectly suited to harness her excellent agility, and he was pleased to see her taking full advantage.

“Impressive, Princess,” he complimented her when they again broke apart. “You have improved much during our trials here.”

“Careful, Hendrik,” she said with a huff, clearly put out. “We wouldn’t want you to struggle under the weight of all that condescension.”

Hendrik made to protest, not understanding where he had given offence, but Princess Jade charged at him once more and he was forced to defend himself.

The hazy glow of the sun began to sink down behind the mountains as the sparring match continued. The princess seemed only to grow more provoked with each failed attempt to get past his defences, and Hendrik frowned as her easy composure grew more and more frayed.

“Might it not be prudent to take a brief recess?” he called out after blocking a vigorous Leg Sweep.

“Why aren’t you fighting back?” she demanded, glaring up at him from her low crouch. “Do you think me so fragile?”

“Certainly not, Your Highness!” It _was_ the truth; Hendrik had for some time now considered her one of the more formidable members of their party, and would trust her to have his back on any battlefield. Yet still the lingering worries remained. ”Forgive me, but it is difficult for me to...after so many years, I...”

She straightened and brushed her sweat-damp bangs back from her face. Her gaze hardened. “Then perhaps you need a reminder of just how much things have changed.”

Hendrik’s sword instinctively went up as a burst of red flames consumed the princess’s form. He watched with no small amount of alarm as the smoke dissipated and there stood...there stood...

His mouth gaped open, and he could feel his eyes bulging almost right out of his head.

Long, stockinged legs—

A skin-tight leather bodysuit—

Coyly perched bunny ears—

Piercing ruby eyes—

Dark, wickedly-curved lips—

Princess Jade had somehow transformed into such a vision of seductive beauty as Hendrik could not have imagined in his darkest fantasies. He took one staggered step back, unable even to wrap his mind around what he was seeing. The world had taken on a dizzying cast and alarm bells rang between his ears, but still he could not tear his gaze away.

The princess seemed not to take notice of his stupefaction, instead readying herself for another attack. “Now let’s see you block _this_, Sir Hendrik!”

As it turned out, she did not, in fact, see anything of the sort. Hendrik was in such a daze of confusion that for the first time since his distant youth, he made not a single attempt to defend himself against imminent attack. Her heeled foot hit him squarely in the chest and the force of the blow—given greater strength through some unknown enchantment—propelled them both backward. They slammed onto the stone floor of the field together, the princess’s cry of surprise echoed by the clatter of his sword. Even in his discombobulated state, Hendrik instinctively positioned himself to absorb the majority of the blow, earning himself a sharp knock to the head as a result.

“Hendrik!”

He was dimly aware of movement above, the sprawled figure atop him scrambling to his side. The knight blinked up at strange dual visions of his princess before they merged into one. She was looking down at him with worried eyes, all ire apparently forgotten. He could almost think these past minutes a dream—excepting for the _spectacular _eyeful of leather-encased cleavage he was suddenly privy to.

Hendrik wrenched himself up into a sitting position and clutched at his throbbing head as the world spun around him. Light hands brushed over his shoulders and he heard the faint clinking of bangles.

“I’m so sorry,” the princess said quietly; an unaccountable reverb accompanied her words. “I didn’t think you would have such a strong reaction.”

“P-Princess,” he choked out, finding his voice at last. “What...in the _heavens_ is going on? How came you to be in such a...such a state as _this?_”

He could hear the bewilderment in her voice. “What do you mean? You’ve seen that ability before, when we fought the Bathysfear out on the...” She paused. “Oh. I...completely forgot you weren’t there for that one.”

“You mean that you have...this is not the first time...” The thought of others—_multiple_ others—having had opportunity to observe his princess in such an outlandish state was almost too much to bear. Hendrik squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to every higher power to grant him strength in his time of desperate need.

Her hand lingered on his arm a moment before dropping away, leaving a coolness in its wake. “I discovered it when the Elder unlocked our powers back on Havens Above. It’s quite useful, actually, whatever its...peculiar side effects.”

‘Peculiar’ was most certainly _not_ the word Hendrik would have used. ‘Disturbing’, ‘confounding’, and ‘dismaying’ were closer; or even ‘catastrophic’. Yes, ‘catastrophic’ would do very well.

“For what it’s worth,” the princess continued in a lighter tone, “Sylvando thinks it really suits me.”

_That_ was enough to jolt Hendrik out of some of his shock. “I do not recall ever soliciting his opinion on my future queen’s choice of wardrobe,” he grated with a burst of irritation towards the man. 

He opened his eyes and automatically looked to his princess before darting them away again. “Princess, I must beg you with all possible urgency...”

“Oh. Sorry.” There was a burst of crimson flames in his peripheral vision. After a moment, he risked a glance over—at eye level; he was absolutely _certain_ to confine it to eye level—and felt relief wash through him at the sight of a familiar violet hue. She was smiling at him, still apologetic but with what he suspected was a trace of amusement as well. Hendrik let out a long, slow sigh and gingerly began to rise.

“I suppose we should probably end this here,” Princess Jade said when they were once more afoot. “We could mark it down as a tie, if you’d like.”

Hendrik shook his head, not trusting himself to answer her as he walked over to retrieve his sword. The throbbing had lessened and he decided not to waste the magic on a healing spell.

“Do you wish to join the others for supper now, Your Highness?” he asked her.

The princess nodded. “Probably a good idea.”

She paused a moment, though, looking out over the mountains with their backdrop of dimming sky. “It really is peaceful here. I wouldn’t mind coming back someday, after everything is over.”

“I had that selfsame thought,” Hendrik replied. “The training regimen is most exhaustive and the monks have much wisdom to offer. I might ask the king’s permission to sequester myself here for a time.”

_Especially _if his princess chose to continue with her evident goal of shocking him to his very core. The future was murky in many ways and Hendrik seldom wasted worry on its possibilities; but a sliver of unease had intruded itself upon him that day, which might take some time to dissipate.

“Really?” the princess asked with a show of surprise. “I wouldn’t have thought you interested, what with the requirement for baldness and all.”

Hendrik jerked back, horror flooding through him. One gloved hand flew protectively up to his hair and its exactly suitable length. “Is that—I had not thought—they cannot truly demand such a thing from mere _visitors_—”

He broke off when he saw the broad smile on her face. After a moment, he moved the hand over to his temple with a weary sigh.

“There are certain matters wholly unsuitable for jesting, Princess,” he reproved her as they began to walk to the exit together.

“I see the years have only made you _more _vain, Sir Hendrik,” she teased in response, reaching up to brush light fingers over his chin. “Perhaps I should shave your beard off in your sleep to cure you of it once and for all.”

“Your Highness, _please_—”

Her laughter floated high out into the fresh mountain air, and despite his chagrin, Hendrik could feel his spirits rising alongside it.


	4. Before: L'Académie de Notre Maître des Médailles | After: Arboria

╔══════════════════════════════╗  
**Before: L'Académie de Notre Maître des Médailles**  
╚══════════════════════════════╝  
  


The scent of flowers had long evoked wistful, abstruse feelings within Hendrik, and the fresh breeze floating in from the academy gardens was proving itself no exception.

He did not entirely understand the reason for their detour; the Luminary had made mention only of some sort of pearl useful for his smithing work. Hendrik had never heard of such a material, but his own knowledge of the art was rudimentary and he deferred to the young man’s clear expertise. His gloved fingers went unconsciously to the hilt of his new sword, as fine a creation as he had obtained from the most veteran guildmasters in the world.

The peal of some unknown bell roused him from his reverie and Hendrik squinted at the shadows stretching out along the library floor. It was only _intended _to be a short diversion from their next destination, the kingdom of Sniflheim, but likely the Luminary had been accosted by various petitioners with new tasks to add to their list. In truth, Hendrik was glad enough to put the journey off as long as possible; he could _still _feel the frigid Hekswood wind as it pierced its way down to his very bones.

Hendrik straightened and slipped his book back onto the shelf, taking care to return it exactly whence it had come. He had never before encountered a monster serving as a librarian and thought it best not to give offence if possible. An international incident would bring shame both upon _his_ honour as well as Heliodor’s.

Children in smart uniforms dotted the halls, paying him no mind as he passed through. Occasionally they let out high-pitched giggles as they conversed in groups of two or three, startling him each time. But he was glad of it, for such laughter served as stark reminder of what was held at stake in their fateful quest.

He intended on continuing to the dining hall to seek out the Luminary and inquire as to his status, but at that moment the front doors opened and he spied over the head of a diminutive student a _most_ intriguing scene. Hendrik immediately changed course and headed out to the front courtyard instead.

“Now, the most crucial part of _this _move,” Princess Jade was saying to the cluster of little girls that comprised her rapt audience, “is keeping your leg high as you spin, like _so_—”

She bent back and leapt into a fierce kick, her hair twisting around herself before she landed nimbly on the flagstone floor. The students _oohed _and _ahhed _and the princess smiled. 

“All right, now you try it!” she told them, brushing her bangs back into place.

The students dispersed and eagerly began attempting their own kicks, with somewhat dubious success. Princess Jade circled them as she watched, stepping in at times to instruct a girl on technique or provide a slower demonstration. She was patient and helpful and not overly quick to praise _or _criticize; no stranger to training novice fighters himself, Hendrik was much impressed by her instructional abilities.

The princess glanced over to where he stood on the stone steps and gave him a small wave—which Hendrik readily returned—before focusing on her charges once more.

After several minutes of practice, the bell once more pealed and the lesson ended. The girls gathered their hats and other accoutrements and ran back to the academy building, laughing and chattering all the way. Hendrik jolted slightly to see a slime among them; how he had missed it during his observation, he had not the faintest idea.

“Well, how did I do?” Princess Jade asked, joining him on the steps.

“Your Highness is a most gifted instructor,” Hendrik complimented her. “You retained clarity and focus and held the attention of your pupils admirably.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. Her head then shook with amusement. “That last part I thought I had even better when I brought Erik in for my first demonstration, but it rather backfired on me. It’s impossible to get little girls to listen when they’re busy fawning over a pretty, rakish young man like that.”

“Was that wise, Princess?” Hendrik asked her, frowning slightly at her description of the thief as ‘pretty’. “I had thought him still bereft of his abilities.”

She shrugged. “I thought maybe I could jog his memory a bit—try to recreate our duel from the tournament and see if anything shook out. But between the swooning girls and the boot in his face, he pled for mercy quite early on. Probably for the best, really.”

The princess began to stroll further into the gardens and Hendrik followed. His nose caught some achingly familiar scent and he deliberately turned his head away from it.

“What prompted you to this course of action?” he asked her, curious. She was never one for idleness during her leisure time, but he had expected to find her conversing with the faculty or investigating the equipment at the academy’s small shop. 

Princess Jade was silent for a moment, her fingers brushing lightly over the petals of a tall flower.

“I don’t want these girls—or any children—growing up not able to defend themselves,” she said quietly. “I remember what it was like to feel that helpless, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

Hendrik chest twisted at the faraway melancholy on the princess’s face. “A worthy goal,” he said at last, swallowing a lump in his throat, and she nodded briefly at him.

“But I think I made some real progress today,” she continued in a lighter tone. “Did you see the red-haired one? Give me two weeks with her and she’ll outperform Rab on the field.”

“Some of the students _did_ show much promise,” Hendrik mused. “Perhaps we should consider an exchange program of sorts when Heliodor is restored. I think it not unlikely several of them would make excellent knights.”

The princess wheeled on him and he took a startled step backward. “This from the man who refused to let me so much as _look_ at a practice sword when I was their age?” she demanded, outrage infusing her voice. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how many times you dragged me out of the barracks after hours.”

Hendrik spread his hands helplessly. “The king’s orders, Princess. He asked that your curiosity for martial pursuits be curtailed if at all possible.” He paused. “I cannot say that I agreed with him in my heart, but...”

Princess Jade snorted and batted at a flower with one gloved hand. “I should have guessed. At least Jasper sometimes let me play with his shield, when neither you nor my governess was around.”

The name lay heavily in the air for a long moment, overpowering even the heady scent of the flowers. Hendrik stood frozen as he watched the princess’s fingers slowly curl into the large bloom’s filaments. Then she cleared her throat and looked up at the academy.

“It wasn’t long before I was supposed to come here, was it?” she asked, strangely neutral.

Hendrik struggled some few seconds to find his voice. “No,” he replied with a slight rasp. “It was your mother’s wish that you would enroll after your ninth birthday, as she once had.”

“I wonder how everything might have—” the princess began before they heard shouts from the main entrance.

“Un monstre!” cried out a young girl, several more shrieking alongside her. Hendrik’s head snapped up to behold the sight of a ferocious Tantamount, somehow having made its way dangerously close to the academy grounds. He turned to the princess only to find her already gone as she charged off to do battle.

“Princess!” Hendrik clawed his sword out of its scabbard and ran after her. Frightened children sped past him on his way and he reached the gate in time to see Princess Jade launching herself at the hell-horse with a fierce cry. He gritted his teeth and cast a Kabuff before joining the fray, sword held high.

The beast reared and slashed at them with its fiery hoofs but Hendrik and the princess wordlessly positioned themselves on opposite sides, surrounding it within their pincer attack. Between his keen blade and her blunt kicks, they made short work of it, and soon the fiend collapsed to the dirt path and dissipated into a cloud of smoke.

Hendrik let out a long breath and knelt down to clean his sword on a nearby patch of grass before sliding it back in its sheath. The princess was grinning at him when he arose.

“Well, that was an unexpected bit of excitement,” she said, wiping a sheen of sweat off her brow.

“Princess...” He attempted to wrestle his thoughts into coherence. “Your bravery is commendable, but in the future I would ask that you not charge into battle without clear plan or preparation.”

Her eyes hardened slightly. “You can _ask_,” she replied, still smiling, “but I don’t think it’s going to get you very far.”

She looked to the academy in the distance before returning her gaze to his. “I’m not a helpless girl anymore, Hendrik. I haven’t been for a long time. And good thing too, because I think you’re going to need me to help save the world.”

Hendrik stared at her, guilty disquiet coursing through him. There was nothing he would not give to have had her grow up at home with her family, protected from the trials she had endured those long years; but at the same time, the absence of this fearless, indomitable, _extraordinary _woman from their fellowship was unthinkable. The truth of her words struck him full-on, and he felt all the shame of it.

“My apologies, Princess,” he said finally.

She nodded at him, a flash of relief crossing her face. Then she jerked one thumb back toward the courtyard where a sizeable number of students was already gathering.

“What sort of tale should we spin to impress them?” she asked, mischief in her voice. “_Five_ Tantamounts at once? Damsels in distress? A daring, near-death rescue?”

Hendrik frowned as he thought about it, his brows knitting together. “I think it not advisable to exaggerate the amount, Princess, as there _were_ witnesses to the beast’s initial assault.”

“Ah, the ever-practical knight,” she sighed with what he could _almost_ have sworn was a hint of fondness. They continued to debate the matter as they returned to the academy, the sun lowering into the rocky hills surrounding them.  
  


╔══════════════╗  
**After: Arboria**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


Jade looked out over the high mountains of Arboria and took in a deep breath. “It’s all over,” she whispered to herself, wondering if it would feel more _real_ to her then. Maybe a little, she decided.

“What was that, Jade?” Serena asked, coming up from behind her on the viewing platform. The young woman’s long, blonde hair rustled in the night breeze and she had a look of peaceful contentment on her face. To return to her familiar home, task finished, had brought a sense of completion to her air that Jade could only envy.

“Nothing,” the princess answered with a smile. “Just thinking aloud about how strange this all feels.”

“I can certainly understand that,” Serena agreed. “It seems only yesterday Veronica and I were leaving on our journey to find the Luminary. Oh, I was homesick the very second we lost sight of Arboria!”

She glanced down at the town square, with its boisterous (for Arboria, at any rate) celebrations going on in the background. “I’m glad to be back, but I suppose it’ll take some time to get over all the excitement—for Veronica, especially. You _do _promise to visit, don’t you, Jade?”

“Of course,” Jade assured her. “And you’ll always be welcome in Heliodor, too.”

Serena reached out and squeezed her hand affectionately. “We’ll be sure to take you up on that once you’ve settled in. You must be ever so happy to be going home at last!”

Jade squeezed back, making sure to keep her smile suitably bright. “How could I be anything but?”

Someone called out to Serena and the priestess turned to give a wave. “Mother’s asking for me,” she apologized to Jade. “Do come back to the party at some point, all right? There are so many people eager to meet you.”

The princess nodded and watched Serena leave to rejoin her joyful family and friends. Since the defeat of Calasmos, impromptu celebrations had seemed to break out wherever the heroic Luminary and his companions went; it felt rather like one large, Erdrea-wide party they were continually crashing. Even the academy had surprised them with a new rendition of their school song when they’d dropped by.

From the platform, Jade could see several of her friends scattered throughout the Arborian square: Sylvando was putting on a show in front of a delighted audience; Rab was chatting with Benedictus near the temple, arms gesticulating with enthusiasm; Erik and Veronica were predictably having some spat or another; and the other two nowhere to be seen.

Jade sighed, feeling rather apart from all the jubilation. It was difficult not to miss Lady Eleanor on a night like this. She’d always been such a kind and sympathetic listener, traits her son had inherited wonderfully. But the princess wasn’t sure even he would understand the confusing, contradictory feelings within her then, knowing how eager he was to return to his _own_ home.

At that moment, a very harried-looking man pounded up the steps to the platform, ducking behind the large tree in the middle. He didn’t seem to notice Jade’s presence _or _how poorly the trunk concealed his bulk, too intent on sneaking furtive glances behind him.

“What in the world are you doing, Hendrik?” Jade asked curiously.

He started visibly and his head jerked up to look at her. “Princess!” The knight attempted some semblance of a bow, mostly spoiled by his continuing surveillance of his surroundings. “It is difficult to explain what—that is, I was merely—I thought the time prudent to—”

“Make a calculated retreat from amorous Arborian ladies?” she suggested with amusement.

Hendrik nodded, his neck flushing. “I must confess, I find myself taken aback by their boldness. The women here are far from shrinking violets.”

“Well, it _is_ a town that produced Veronica, after all.” Jade walked forward a few steps and scanned the area, looking for any pursuit. “I think you’re safe now, Sir Hendrik.”

His shoulders slumped and he let out a heavy sigh of relief. “My thanks, Princess.” He straightened again and stole another nervous glance behind him. “I believe I shall remain here for a time, however, if you would not mind the company.”

“I wouldn’t,” Jade acknowledged. She moved back over to the other side of the platform and Hendrik followed her. Together they looked out at the star-swept mountain horizon. It was somehow peaceful there despite the nearby festivities, and she almost wished that time could stand still—at least for a little while.

“Do you happen to know if the Luminary intends us to stay the night here?” Hendrik asked eventually.

“I think so,” Jade replied. “The twins’ parents offered to put us up, and there’s also the inn.”

“Very well.”

She stole a glance at the tall man beside her and saw him staring pensively at the glittering sky.

“I believe it best to make for Puerto Valor tomorrow,” he added after another minute of silence, “and then on to Dundrasil, if Erik does not wish his return to Sniflheim first. After that, all that will be left is Heliodor and Cobblestone.” A pause. “It will be good to return home at last.”

“Yes,” Jade agreed, not trusting herself to speak further. _Home_. Such a simple concept, something she had yearned for ever since that awful tragedy just before her ninth birthday. She had already reunited with her father and started those first steps toward reclaiming her place in the world. And it wasn’t just him waiting for her but an entire population of people eager to see the return of their lost princess. The battles and hardship were done, and finally she could have everything she’d ever wanted.

So why did her chest feel as though it was squeezing in on itself?

Hendrik let out a long breath and she saw his hand lift to his sword hilt, toying with the pommel. Then, to her absolute astonishment, he said: “I must admit myself somewhat...apprehensive about our return.”

Her head jerked up to stare at him. Sir Hendrik, master and commander of the armies of Heliodor and general all-around hero, was openly _worrying _about going back home? She only just kept from pinching herself to make certain she was awake.

“What do you mean?” she asked him, consumed with the desire to hear further.

He continued to look out over the mountains as he answered. “There were many duties of office shared between myself and Jasper. Changes will need to be made and much work done to ensure that the affairs of the kingdom run smoothly. I...fear, at times, that I will not be equal to the task.”

“Oh,” Jade said articulately. She had thought that Hendrik had finally achieved some measure of closure with respect to his onetime friend, but hadn’t at all realized the deeper implications of his loss. It was difficult to know how to respond to a still-healing scar like that.

When she saw Hendrik swallow tightly, however, she pulled herself together, not wanting him to regret having made himself so uncharacteristically vulnerable to his sworn princess.

“I’m sure an ever-practical knight like you can figure it out,” she told him, hoping that sounded much less awkward on his end than hers. “You have my father to help, as well as the other councillors.”

Then, feeling even _more_ foolish, she added: “And me, of course. Though I’m not sure what I’m qualified for besides testing the troops’ readiness for battle.”

He finally looked down at her with a small smile. “I would trust no one else’s judgement more highly, Princess Jade. Truly, our purpose could not have been accomplished without you.”

Jade returned the smile before a thought occurred to her. “Will there even _be_ any more use for armies with the monsters gone? You may find yourself with more leisure time than you expect, Sir Hendrik.”

“A compelling point,” he mused. “Perhaps I should consider enrolling in an apprenticeship. The blacksmiths’ guild is seeking new initiates last I heard, and I have long held an interest in the art.”

“Well, there you have it. You can mend my spears and claws when I break them on stubborn training dummies—or equally stubborn knightly heads.”

His gaze returned to the horizon, though the curve of his lips remained. It was a nice smile, Jade decided; one she’d like to see more of.

“Regardless, Princess,” he said, clearing his throat, “there is much uncertainty with this new course before us. I would not think the lesser of anyone who found themselves in the possession of reservations or mental disquiet.”

Hendrik’s eyes flicked towards her for a moment, but otherwise stayed steadfast in their perusal of the mountainous vista.

For the second time that evening, Jade found herself at a loss. Not only was Hendrik the last person she’d ever expected to see past her cheerful facade, but he had understood the heart of her worries and had shared his own in reassurance that she wasn’t alone.

Suddenly, going home seemed a lot easier than _she’d_ feared too, knowing she would have him by her side.

Jade straightened and turned to face him, one hand held out. “Well, Hendrik,” she said, preferring to cut through pretense whenever possible, “you try your best and I’ll try mine. Deal?”

“As you say, Your Highness,” he confirmed, clasping her hand with his enormous one. She felt his warmth through the glove and could not help the slight shiver that overtook her.

“Now that that’s settled, perhaps we ought to go back to the—” Jade was interrupted by a frankly _intimidating_ gaggle of middle-aged women suddenly rushing their position on the platform. She was impressed by how efficiently they managed to surround the princess and knight and block off any chance of escape.

“Ah! Sir Hendrik!” one of the women beamed. “We have been looking for you!”

“Yes!” another added eagerly. “Please, you must come and try my special stew, made especially for the new Heroes of Legend who saved us all!”

“And mine!” a third piped up, setting off a practical _deluge_ of offerings.

Hendrik wore such a look of desperation on his face that Jade had to stifle a laugh. His eyes flew to hers, a naked plea for rescue within them.

“Sorry, Hendrik,” she told him with a wealth of false sympathy. “I’m afraid this is one battle you’re going to have to fight on your own.”

She saw the hopeless defeat crash through him as he let himself be dragged away, his plaintive objections fading as they went. “Ladies, please...I am but a humble soldier of Heliodor...even a man my size can only consume so much..._ladies_...”

Jade turned back to the view one last time before she left. “Home,” she whispered. Yes, that one definitely felt the most real of all.


	5. Before: Sniflheim | After: Heliodor

╔══════════════╗  
**Before: Sniflheim**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


Say what you would about the weather—and Jade, hailing from temperate Heliodor, certainly _did_—the citizens of Sniflheim knew how to have a good time.

The tavern was crowded that evening, and no wonder: for the first time in many months, the people were free to leave their homes again now that the threat of Gold Fever had passed. The tavern owner looked overjoyed as he poured out drink after fiery drink, and his patrons seemed more than happy to gulp them down.

Jade sat at a table with Sylvando, nursing her own mug. She’d never liked the strong-flavoured alcohols of the north, but had also found that _not_ having a drink only invited an endless parade of offers from grateful passers-by. So she kept it in front of her instead and took her sips sparingly.

Sylvando seemed to find it much more to his taste, she noted with amusement. The man accepted all overtures with a graceful aplomb that would strike envy in the heart of any courtier. Not that she’d met many courtiers lately; Rab and his grandson tended to do all the hobnobbing with nobility. She glanced at the clock and wondered when they’d be back from the palace.

“Oh, darlings, you’re just _too_ sweet,” Sylvando was saying to a group of starstruck Sniflheimers (Sniflheimians?). “Really, we hardly did anything at all!”

“No, please, we dearly wish to show our gratitude,” a young man said earnestly. “If it were not for you, the Gold Fever would strike us still.”

“Well, if you insist—” Yet _another_ mug obtained, Sylvando turned back to the table and deposited his prize with a clunk.

Jade raised one eyebrow at him. “Are you certain we’re not going to have to peel you out of bed tomorrow morning?”

The man lifted one delicate hand to his chest in defence. “From _this_, honey? Oh, please. I could drink the whole table and _still_ pull off an unforgettable knife-juggling act.”

“I’m sure you could,” she agreed. “But we should probably wait until Rab gets back so he can Zing the unfortunate casualties.”

She was distracted from his outraged reply by the sight of a man a full head taller than anyone else entering the tavern. The crowd didn’t so much part as melt away before him, and her lips curved at his confused frown. Sir Hendrik of Heliodor’s intimidating reputation was sometimes even more effective at crowd control than the knight’s own bulk, especially in this region of the world. She had the sneaking suspicion _he_ wouldn’t be offered quite so many drinks as the rest of them that night.

As he approached, Sylvando grabbed a chair from nearby and presented it with a flourish. Hendrik nodded at him and sat down at the table. “Sylvando. Princess Jade.”

“How’s Erik?” Jade asked.

“As well as can be expected,” Hendrik replied. “His sister sleeps on, and he wishes not to be parted from her—understandably so. I spoke extensively to the priest and made certain she will be provided every comfort while she recovers.”

Jade had been a little surprised when Hendrik had volunteered to stay behind and make the arrangements for Mia’s care. She’d long suspected bad blood between the thief and the knight, though neither was ever willing to talk about it. Something about Erik’s tale had seemed to affect him deeply, however, and his concern for the girl was honestly quite touching.

“So there doesn’t seem to be any more...funny memory stuff going on?” Sylvando interjected.

Hendrik’s jaw tightened so imperceptibly that Jade might have missed it if she hadn’t been watching so closely. “No,” he said shortly. “He appears fully recuperated on that score.”

She was dying to press him further, but then Hendrik looked down at the table practically _overflowing _with mugs and his brow furrowed. “Princess, you surely do not intend to consume all of _this_...”

“No, Sir Hendrik,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They’re mostly Sylvando’s.”

“Which I now bequeath to _you_, Hendrik darling!” the other knight declared with a grand gesture. “Jade and I can’t have all the fun, can we?”

Hendrik impatiently drummed his gloved fingers on the table. “I do not think that an advisable occupation considering the gravity of our quest,” he said reprovingly. “Now that the way is opened, we must aim for Arboria and seek out what signs we can of your remaining companions.”

“But surely not tonight,” Jade objected, instantly deciding which side to align herself with in the debate. “You’re allowed to let your hair down a little, Hendrik.”

He frowned, clearly not taking her meaning. “It is rare that I choose to wear it up. Even on such occasions, I find a simple queue is more than sufficient for my purposes—”

Some well-equipped tavern patrons decided it was past time for some entertainment and a trio of fiddles was produced. The musicians launched into a sprightly song and a space on the floor was quickly cleared.

“Oh, that’s _just_ what we were missing!” Sylvando exclaimed. He pushed back his chair and turned to Jade, dropping into an elegant bow as he extended one hand. “Please, my lady,” he said in an exaggeratedly formal accent. “Would you do me the honour?”

She smiled and accepted his hand. “Why not?” The many years of travel with Rab had made her fond of dancing, though she seldom had the opportunity to indulge these days.

About to lead her away, Sylvando hesitated. He raised his eyebrows and looked to his friend. “Unless _you’d_ like to take my place, honey?”

Hendrik’s sudden alarm was so obvious that it made Jade’s smile widen even further. “I should not think so,” he muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I do not...dance.”

“Ugh, what a stick-in-the-mud!” Sylvando complained to Jade. “So noble and knightly and boring. I bet we could even get Papi out on the floor before _this_ one ever cut loose.”

“Don Rodrigo, dancing? Surely not,” Hendrik snorted.

“He can sit here and mind the drinks,” Jade said. “Come on, let’s at least _some_ of us have a little fun tonight.”

They joined the other couples on the floor and Sylvando walked her through the steps of the local folk dance, which she wasn’t surprised to find him an expert in. She hadn’t travelled all those years in disguise for nothing, though, and soon they were moving in time with the rest, the crowd cheering them on. Jade grinned as they spun around together, warm lanterns flickering overhead and merry music filling her ears. She could almost think herself happy for that brief moment in time, and wished that the rest of their friends were there with them. Veronica would especially love it, she knew; they’d have to come back someday to show her.

Jade danced until she was breathless, partnering up with this patron and that until they all became a blur. She finally pleaded thirst and left the dance floor, wanting to check up on Hendrik and maybe find some way of tricking him into joining them regardless of his protests. Alcohol, perhaps?

She found him with a visitor at the table, a young man who was speaking animatedly as the beleaguered knight stared into his mug, hands clasped around it as if for dear life.

“...do not know what else to do!” the man was saying. “Until recently the golden ice blocked me from my quest, but now that it is gone I find the monsters are even fiercer than before. Without the lovely Snærose, how will I ever win her heart?”

Hendrik, looking more than a little bemused, cleared his throat. “Well,” he ventured, “have you attempted to _speak_ to the lady about your feelings?”

“Many times!” the other man groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “She is so beautiful and cold that my only chance is to retrieve this token of my love.”

“I might reconsider whether a woman this demanding would make a proper choice for matrimony,” Hendrik told him with a charming earnestness. “Your future domestic happiness could well be in peril.”

The man shook his head. “But how can I ever forget her? Oh, I am doomed!”

Hendrik hesitated before reaching over to awkwardly pat him on the shoulders. He had just opened his mouth to speak when he spotted Jade and lurched backward. “Princess!” A flush blossomed on his cheeks, as if he had been caught in some compromising position.

“Hello,” she said, dropping down into the empty chair. She glanced over at the pitiful young man. “Still can’t get over Krystalinda, eh?”

He nodded mournfully while Hendrik stared first at Jade and then at the man. “Krystalinda?” he said sharply. “Your hopeful beloved is the _witch?_”

“The most beautiful witch in all the land,” the man sighed in agreement. 

A vein started to throb in Hendrik’s neck. “If I had known that you referred to that vile, nefarious, execrable—”

“I think that’s probably enough, Hendrik,” Jade interrupted him. “I doubt you’ll be of any more help to this poor man.” She took a long drink from one of the mugs and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. “So seeing as you aren’t doing anything, anyway—”

She grabbed Hendrik’s gloved hands and hauled him out of the chair; no mean feat for a woman who weighed in at approximately a third his size. His alarm returned in full force as she pulled him to the dance floor.

“Princess, I must object in the strongest possible terms—”

“Objections noted, Sir Hendrik,” she said sweetly. “Now come dance with us.”

Jade would have _liked_ to have said he really wasn’t that bad after all, but a princess must keep her conscience clear. Still she laughed as she and Sylvando made futile attempts to teach their lumbering friend the steps, and she even caught Hendrik in a smile once or twice—despite his best efforts.  
  


╔══════════════╗  
**After: Heliodor**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


Hendrik marched through the halls of Heliodor Castle and revelled once again in its comforting familiarity. Guards saluted him as he went and he nodded in return, satisfied by the order and discipline on display. The captain of the guard was a capable man and the knight had trusted him to secure the king in his absence, but still it was a relief to see the proof of it for himself.

His goal at that moment was Princess Jade’s quarters. She had summoned him after breakfast and he had, of course, postponed all other engagements in response. It was not two weeks since their return and he was keenly vigilant to her potential struggles, burdened though he was by the mountain of duties that comprised his office.

The most glaring of which was that very evening: the ball the king was hosting in honour of the princess’s upcoming birthday. Hendrik had some concerns about the timing of such a formal court function, wondering if it might not be better to wait until the princess was more settled into castle life. His Majesty had laughed off his doubts, however, and assured him that Princess Jade herself had approved the idea. Still, Hendrik could not help his reservations.

At least he already had her present taken care of. The spear would be ready at the smithy in the afternoon, waiting for Hendrik’s final inspection. The quality was not anywhere near what the Luminary could produce, admittedly, but there were still a few characteristics of Heliodorian craftsmanship that he thought she might find interesting. He hoped to be present when she first tried it out, always taking great pleasure at observing her in her training.

Hendrik climbed the grand staircase and proceeded to the large doors that had been so little used those sixteen years previous. The guard outside stood vigilant at his post, knowing how dramatically the consequence of his position had risen; Hendrik would demand nothing less from his troops.

“Come in!” Princess Jade called after he rapped on the door. He felt a momentary unease at visiting a lady’s bedchambers alone, but assured himself that she would not have requested him if it were not important—or even a matter of some discretion. He fought off unbidden visions of the princess tearfully confiding in him as he provided solicitous reassurance, and entered the room.

She was standing at her bed, bent over a book that lay open on the richly embroidered coverlet. Still unused to the finery of her station, she wore her usual green and black outfit and her hair was pulled high upon her head.

The princess glanced up and gave a distracted nod at his bow. “There you are. I need your help, Hendrik.”

“I am at your immediate disposal, Your Highness,” he replied.

An amused smile crossed her face at that, but then she turned to seriousness again. “Do you happen to know which of your officers is particularly fond of dancing?”

Hendrik blinked, not certain he had heard correctly. “...Dancing, Princess?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, gesturing to the book. “I realized this morning that I’m not at all familiar with the latest ballroom techniques. I borrowed this from the library, but it’s difficult to determine the steps from diagrams alone.”

“And so you wish...what with my officers?” he asked, thoroughly baffled.

Princess Jade smiled again, with perhaps a slight rolling of her eyes. “To dance, Hendrik. If you’d direct me to whichever of them is most skilled, then he can help walk me through it before I make a complete fool of myself tonight.”

She turned back to the book and flipped through several pages. “I only wish Sylvando were here,” she said to herself with a frown. “I’m sure _he _could teach me in no time at all.”

Hendrik was so distracted by his objections to the princess—or _any_ member of the royal family of Heliodor—categorizing themselves as foolish that it took some moments for the significance of her request to sink in. 

An image filled his mind at once: the princess in the arms of one of his more dashing lieutenants, a breathless look on her face as the man held her close, his ungloved hands at her bare waist.

It was an insupportable idea. A reprehensible, unseemly, _wildly _improper idea, and it was his clear duty as future queen’s knight to cut it off at the head, by whatever means necessary.

“I will do it, Your Highness,” Hendrik declared.

The princess’s head jerked up from the book and she stared at him. “Hendrik,” she said slowly. “You _hate_ dancing.”

“That is...not an inaccurate assessment,” he replied stiffly.

“What’s more,” she continued in that same doubtful tone, “you’re not really...all that _good _at it.”

He coughed into his hand. “Be that as it may, Princess, I _am_ trained in all the proper techniques.”

Princess Jade’s assessing gaze remained on his to the point where Hendrik began to feel rather itchy around the collar.

“What’s this all about?” she asked finally.

Hendrik wrestled with his conscience for a time. The princess had not historically reacted well to any form of protectiveness on his part, and he wished never to encroach upon her independence. But this, he reasoned, was more a question of _propriety_ than preservation. It was possible that she, in her relative newness to royal life, did not fully grasp the ramifications of what she was proposing.

“It is not...appropriate for the princess of Heliodor to be found in such intimate situations with other men,” he explained, hoping the mildness of his tone would forestall any anger.

“Appropriate,” she repeated flatly.

“That is correct.” He saw her eyes narrow and felt compelled to make an addition: “There is no blame to yourself, of course; I understand that you are still largely unfamiliar with court proceedings. The gossip can, unfortunately, be quite vicious.”

“Oh, _can_ it?” the princess asked.

A discomfiting feeling had settled between Hendrik’s shoulder blades, as if he were the imminent target of some unknown assailant.

“I...merely look out for any potential calumniations against the crown,” he asserted, sure of the justness of his course. If the princess’s wrath was provoked in the doing, so be it; the stern duties of knighthood could not be obstructed.

“And what about you?” she said abruptly.

Hendrik frowned. “Me, Your Highness?”

“Yes.” Princess Jade arched one exquisite eyebrow. “Wouldn’t _your_ proposal put you in a rather _intimate_ situation with your princess?”

“That—I did not—it is entirely different!” he sputtered.

“Oh? How so?” She took one languid step forward, her eyes hooded and gleaming strangely.

“I am...” He was finding it difficult to catch his breath all of a sudden. The princess advanced again, and his lungs apparently decided to give up on the venture altogether. “I am the king’s knight. My character is above...above...”

“I don’t know, Hendrik,” she said in a low voice, so close now that he could feel the whisper of her words in the air. “Dancing alone in my private bedchambers, curtains pulled closed, your arms around me, hands resting on my waist. That doesn’t sound very _appropriate_, now does it? What _would _people say?”

Hendrik’s face felt entirely aflame. He struggled to marshall a response, but could focus only on how breathtakingly alluring she looked at that moment, violet eyes glowing and a mysterious curve to her lips. The princess leaned in the slightest bit closer and he felt all the helplessness of his position, frozen in place and entirely at her mercy.

Suddenly she laughed, and the spell was broken. “Goodness, Hendrik, you should see your face!”

“Wh-what?” he gasped out, recoiling in place.

Princess Jade’s smile had shifted from that wicked temptation to a more genuine one. She reached up to poke his chest with one firm finger.

“Serves you right for daring to lecture me on _propriety_,” she admonished him. “Your objections have been noted, Sir Knight, and entirely dismissed.”

“I...that is...” Hendrik swallowed hard and attempted—with admittedly _very_ little success—to rally his thoughts back into formation. “My apologies, Princess. I...I thought only to spare you...”

“Honestly, when was the last time you even paid attention at a ball?” she demanded. “Those aren’t the kinds of dances in fashion at _all_ these days.”

“It has...possibly been some time,” he admitted faintly.

She snorted and finally—thank the _heavens_—turned and walked back to the bed. “This one I was looking at seems more a cotillion than a true partnered dance,” she said, flipping open her book again. Hendrik agonized for a moment about whether he should ask what a ‘cotillion’ was, but the princess was already moving on.

“Well, regardless of your inexperience, we may as well get started.” Princess Jade looked up at him expectantly.

For what felt like the thousandth time that day, Hendrik found himself gaping at her. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness?”

Her smile was innocent but her eyes gleamed with mischief, and Hendrik knew that he was well and truly trapped.

“You offered yourself up as my partner, Hendrik. I hope you don’t think I won’t hold you to that.” She put her hands on her hips and looked around the room. “Now, help me move this table out of the way, would you?”


	6. Before: Lonalulu | After: Zwaardsrust

╔══════════════╗  
**Before: Lonalulu**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


There was nowhere in Lonalulu that one could escape the sound of crashing surf on rocky shores, and Hendrik wondered what about it seemed so decidedly melancholy to his ears.

It was his first visit to the town—or any place situated on the southern seas. Jasper had always been in charge of all matters naval, being a far better seaman than his companion. As a consequence, Hendrik had seldom ever had occasion to linger near the ocean in his adult years. He was far more at home with the quietude of forest and field or the bustle of city centres than the restless tides found here.

The moon’s light cast the silent streets in ghostly relief. Hendrik did not know where he walked, nor even what meaning it would have to him if he did. The party had disbanded shortly after their arrival and he had not met any other of them in some time. The Luminary’s reasons for this sojourn were vague, but for once not one of his friends had questioned or teased him. Perhaps there _was_ no reason; perhaps the sound of that eternally restive sea was reason enough.

Hendrik eventually found himself at the chapel overlooking the town, more by accident than any design. To his surprise, a solitary nun attended to her duties inside; it seemed the church remained vigilant even in quiet, seaside towns like this.

“Good evening, my child,” she greeted him. “Do you require some service?”

“No, thank you,” he replied with a respectful inclination of his head. “I was merely...passing by.”

She smiled and went back to lighting candles on the altar. Hendrik looked around the room without much curiosity, noting the similarities of such houses of worship the world over. He had never concerned himself with matters of religion, preferring instead the rigorous simplicity of his duties. There was much he did not understand about faith and the comfort it brought to so many others; all he could do was fight to preserve their way of life, no matter the cost.

_His mother’s hands gentle as they guided his own, helping him light the row of candles on their hearth. “For our ancestors,” she said with reverence in her voice. She smiled down at him; her eyes were soft and her lavender braid shone in the flickering light, and as always she had that familiar scent of daffodils about her._

Hendrik took a deep breath and deliberately relaxed his fists. There was nothing for him here, and he had better seek occupation elsewhere. He had just turned to leave the chapel when the nun’s voice stopped him.

“If you are looking for your friends, I last saw them on the way to Saikiki Beach.”

Brow furrowed, he looked back to see her gesturing toward a door he had not previously made note of.

“Ah. My thanks,” he said to cover up his confusion. Lacking any other purpose, he strode over and exited through the other side of the building.

The path beyond was narrow and walled by high cliffs, the sound of the waves more muted there than any other part of town he had visited. He followed it for some time, glancing up at the starry sky every now and then to gauge distance and direction. Eventually, his ears began to pick up the surf coming from ahead instead of behind, and after another turning of the path it opened up to a small beach.

His gaze briefly took in the rocky cliffs, the wooden cabin, and the dim graveyard, before locking on to two figures sitting upon a large rock by the shore.

They did not seem to be in conversation, from what he could tell. They both looked out over the water instead, the short-haired woman sitting with her legs tucked underneath herself and the long-haired one clasping her own. As he watched, the latter turned her head to speak unheard words to the other and she nodded in return before again facing the shimmering sea. It was a quiet, achingly somber moment in time, and Hendrik felt his heart twist at the sight.

All at once, he realized the deplorable violation of privacy he was committing. He rebuked himself harshly and was about to determine the most inconspicuous mode of egress when the shorter-haired of the two women glanced back and spotted him. He froze in place, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as the other woman also looked back. 

Serena gave him a small wave that he felt quite unequal to return. She then spoke quietly to Princess Jade, prompting an unknowable dialogue between them before they clasped each other in a tight embrace for some moments.

The priestess climbed down from the rock and made her way over to Hendrik. His pulse hammered unevenly and he swallowed hard in hopes of finding his voice at last, so that he might beg the forgiveness she so strongly deserved.

“M-my deepest apologies,” he rasped when she reached him. “I had not the _slightest _intention of intruding upon your confidence in this shameful manner...”

“It’s not a problem, Sir Hendrik,” Serena smiled. She absently brought one hand up to tuck her bobbed hair behind her ears. “I was just leaving, anyway. It’s well past all of our bedtimes, I think!”

“Is there—is there anything you require?” he asked, anxiously eager to provide service. “Do you wish an escort back to the inn?”

The priestess shook her head. “No, of course not! I’ll be just fine.” She glanced back at the rock where Princess Jade remained, again looking out over the sea. “But I think Jade could use the company, if there’s nowhere else you have to be.”

There did not exist an obligation in this world or any other that could tear Hendrik away from his princess in a time of need. He nodded at Serena, valiantly fighting the urge to make another apology that she so clearly did not desire, and watched her disappear down the path.

The salty tang of seawater filled his nostrils as he approached the rock. It dredged up a thousand memories from his childhood in Puerto Valor, the surf and seagulls providing noisy accompaniment to his training. But there was also something different here, on this shore far to the south, some quality that he could not name or identify. He did not know whom to ask, or if there was even an answer for him.

Princess Jade glanced up at Hendrik as he climbed onto the rock beside her. “How was Serena when she left?” she asked without preamble.

“She appeared in adequate spirits,” he replied, settling down on the hard surface and frowning slightly at the dampness. “I offered her an escort, but she declined it.”

“I’m sure you did.” The ghost of a smile crossed the princess’s face before vanishing. “She doesn’t want us to treat her like she’s fragile. I can certainly understand that.”

Hendrik nodded his agreement but made no answer. Princess Jade’s tender concern for their companion was just what could be expected of her compassionate heart. Hendrik suspected that she had been much lacking in friendship those long years on the road, so to see her and the priestess having forged such a close bond gladdened his heart.

He did not know if she had shared one similar with her sister; he did not know if he had a right to ask.

The princess sighed and pulled her legs into the clasp of her arms once more, resting her chin on her knees as she stared at the rolling waves. The sea seemed gentler here in the secluded cove, lending it an almost peaceful air, and Hendrik could well understand the town’s reasoning for its choice of cemetery.

Princess Jade spoke quietly then, drawing him from his thoughts. “I’ve been to a lot of shores over the years, but something about this one always makes me feel so...” She paused. “Melancholy, I suppose. It did even before Michelle...well, even before.”

It was not the first time she or one of the others had alluded to some unfortunate circumstance involving Lonalulu. Hendrik had never wished to pry, but something about the wistful solemnity of the evening prompted him to speak.

“Princess, if there is anything that I can...” He trailed off as she shook her head. She glanced behind them for a moment at a grave marker set a ways apart from the rest, though Hendrik could not from this distance see what it proclaimed.

“I’d rather not talk about it, if it’s all the same to you,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. He saw her knuckles whiten as she grasped her legs more tightly.

“Of course, Princess,” he replied, a lump catching in his throat. He would battle any fiend, scale any mountain, attempt any impossible feat for the sake of the woman beside him; but she did not ask these endeavours of him. She did not ask for anything at all, and he felt near-drowned in the powerlessness of his situation.

He had once known exactly what she needed, had provided every comfort and service her childish heart could desire. But she was no longer that girl and he was no longer that boy, and the gulf that stretched between them seemed as endless as the waters they looked out on.

Perhaps...it was not always a question of what he could _do_. Perhaps, at a time of sorrow and grief, it was enough to simply _be_.

Hendrik felt the jolt that ran through her when he laid one careful hand on her far shoulder. Her startled eyes flew up to his, a question within them. He returned her gaze and hoped that she understood his answer, for it was not a thing he could ever put into words.

After a moment, her eyes clouded and her lips curved down into a quivering frown. The princess dropped her arms from her legs and shifted over to him, leaning in as she rested her head against the side of his shoulder. She let out a long breath, barely heard above the sound of the surf. 

His heart thumped painfully within his chest. He could feel the coolness of her skin beneath his gloved hand, the slight tremble against his fingertips. Hendrik swallowed hard before ever so gently tightening his hold around her, pulling her more closely to him. She turned her face to press it into the fabric of his sleeve; the slight wetness there could as likely as not be from mere salt-spray, and he would never dare to find out.

It was tentative, cautious, a moment fragile as glass; but it was enough.

Hendrik and his princess sat together on that lonely shore for some time after, the sea mourning steadily beyond them.  
  


╔══════════════╗  
**After: Zwaardsrust**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


Jade stared down at the misshapen tangle of branches and leaves in her lap and frowned. Well, no one had ever accused her of being good with her hands—at least not when it came to anything other than slicing up stubborn monsters.

Still, when she set out on a course she always tried to follow it through. Never mind that it wasn’t a particularly _good_ wreath; what mattered was that she’d have it finished just in time for the ceremony. To that end, the less scowling and more flower-picking, the better.

It was almost impossible to imagine a more perfect day. Puffy clouds drifted across an azure sky and a warm breeze rustled the leaves of the tree above her, dappling her hands with sunlight as she worked. The sweet smell of blossoming plantlife was _everywhere_, and she could very well understand how the Kingdom of Flowers had earned its name. Even from where Jade sat, she could spot tulips, daffodils, hyacinths, _and_ bluebells, with who knew what else just beyond the ridge.

She finished tying the branches of the wreath together—praying fervently that it would maintain its integrity at least until the dedication was over—and found herself faced with a decision. Normally she would choose tulips for the accent with their brilliant variety of colours, but something made her reach for the daffodils instead. She plucked each one at the base and wove them into the wreath with care. The result was...not perfect, but the best she could come up with on short notice.

Jade rose and stretched her aching arms over her head. As she bent down to pick up the wreath, a voice called over to her.

“Jade, lass! It’s nearly time!”

Rab’s head poked up above the knoll and he waved her on urgently. She waved back and hurried to climb the hill to where the others waited.

News had travelled far about the ceremony and she was surprised by the sheer number of people who had shown up. The ruling monarchs of Erdrea were in attendance, of course—at least the ones who lived above ground—as well as Don Rodrigo. All of her friends had come too, and Jade smiled to see Veronica bantering with an indignant Erik while Serena looked on with worried eyes.

What she hadn’t expected were all the former Zwaardsrustians themselves. They poured in from every corner of the world, eager to finally mark this occasion of remembrance for the first time since the kingdom’s fall. Most were older, the youngest of the survivors being into their thirties by now; but they brought families with them, children and grandchildren, all carrying through them the life and hope that Mordegon had tried so hard to extinguish. It touched Jade to see joyful reunions and tears of happiness shed after decades of exile.

She followed Rab over to the tent that had been set up for the royal attendees. Her father stood just outside, and his beard twitched with relief when he saw her.

“Dearest,” he said. “I had grown concerned that you would not return in time.”

“Sorry for worrying you.” She laid her free hand on his arm and leaned up to peck his cheek. “I was trying to finish this up and it took rather longer than I expected.”

Again a twitch of the beard, this time with a certain dubiousness. “An...interesting creation, Jade.”

“Dinnae blame _me_ for the lass’s craftiness,” Rab chuckled, his hands hooked into his vest. “I taught her to lay a beastie out in five seconds flat, but anything beyond that was her own business.”

“You’re both impossible,” she accused with a huff. “It’s a perfectly serviceable wreath.”

“It’s lovely, dearest,” her father assured her. “An excellent choice of flowers, too—Hendrik will be pleased.”

Jade glanced down at the daffodils, her stomach doing a strange flip at the mention of his name. “What do you mean?”

“They were his mother’s favourite bloom, true enough,” Rab told her with a long stroke of his mustache. “Ah, and a fine lady she was.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “I didn’t know.”

Her father shook his head. “No matter. But here, Robert, I wished to look over my remarks one last time before the ceremony.” The two men went into the tent to put their heads together—as much as they _could_ with such a dramatic difference in height between them.

Jade looked down at her wreath again. It really _was_ lopsided, a truly amateur effort compared to the beautiful floral arrangements on display by the podium and the large, covered object beyond. But then her grip tightened and some of the steel went back into her spine. It was still hers, and it was for _Hendrik’s _sake, not anyone else’s to judge.

Even if...even if she hadn’t known his mother’s favourite flowers were daffodils.

She kept it with her right up until the ceremony, hoping to catch him before it started. He’d been occupied since dawn it seemed, both overseeing security for the event as well as pulled this way and that by every former countryman who wished to pay respects to Zwaardsrust’s most famous son.

(In that respect he was very like the Hallowed Luminary and Saviour of the World himself, who _also_ had been thronged by admirers since his arrival. Judging by their friends’ faces, there was no small amount of teasing awaiting him after this was over.)

Finally she was forced to admit defeat and joined her friends a little apart from the monarchs of Erdrea where they sat before the podium.

Her father had been elected by his fellow royals to speak. He’d known the late king of Zwaardsrust well and spoke stirringly about his courage in helping hold off the monsters so as many of his people as possible could escape that dreadful night.

“And so too does his bravery live on in all of you,” he declared in a booming voice, his beard rustling in the breeze. “The might of Drustan infuses the kingdom still, even on through the long years since he laid his sword to rest. So long as one person remembers the heroism and sacrifice that lie at the heart of these fair lands, Zwaardsrust will never perish.”

Jade finally spotted Hendrik standing a fair ways back from the podium as he watched. Normally so easy to pick out of a crowd, he almost blended in with the throng of onlookers beside him; a slightly taller tree in the middle of a forest.

Her father was speaking on. His cadence had picked up in a way that told her—borne from years of experience—that he was reaching his conclusion.

“In remembrance of those souls tragically taken from us three decades hence,” he proclaimed, “we, the kings and queens of Erdrea, present _this _to the people of Zwaardsrust. May they walk among the flowers all the days of their lives.”

At his signal, the covering was pulled down behind him to reveal the new monument installed in what had once been the city’s main square. A collaborative work commissioned by the finest craftsmen on land, sea, and air, it depicted Zwaardsrust’s heroes of old, set against a backdrop of flower-bedecked swords.

There was a flurry of applause as her father stepped down from the podium. The crowd then began to disperse; some went to view the monument, others laid bouquets along the crumbling walls of the square, still others fell into preparations for the reunion dinner to follow. Jade saw Sylvando comforting an emotional Don Rodrigo off to one side and heard a snippet of their conversation as she passed.

“Your Mami, she would have been—so conmovido, Norberto—” The old knight wiped his eyes with the back of one hand.

“I know, Papi, I know,” Sylvando told his father with a loud sniffle of his own.

Jade stood up on her tiptoes and anxiously scanned the crowd, wreath clutched in her arms. Hendrik had disappeared again—how _did_ he manage to keep doing that—and it took her a few moments to track him down. He was speaking with one of his lieutenants and had that stern, commander-at-his-duties look on his face that didn’t lend itself to interruption.

“Hey, Jade!” She turned to see Erik jogging up to her. He hooked a thumb toward the tables being set up in the adjoining field. “We were gonna go help get the food ready. You coming?”

“All right,” she said, suppressing a sigh. There would be a chance later, she supposed; there _had_ to be.

She joined her friends in helping with the preparations but was too distracted to really participate in the usual conversation or jesting. She laid out cloths and stacked plates and carried large pots from the cooking fires to the tables. Queen Frysabel had made all the arrangements for the feast and the princess was much impressed by the woman’s hosting expertise.

Finally all was ready and the crowd of people began to drift in for the meal. There wasn’t room to seat everyone, so little groups scattered out across the grassy field instead. The noise was almost overwhelming: people laughed and talked, instruments were produced for impromptu duets, and children shrieked as they chased each other among the wildflowers. The sun had started to set beyond the low hills and the clouds had turned to fluffy pinks and golds.

Jade was about to follow her friends to grab a bite to eat when she noticed the continued absence of the one person who’d eluded her all afternoon. Instantly divining where he must be, she dashed over to grab her wreath from its safe place beside the royal tent.

“Where are you going, honey?” Sylvando called to her. “You’re going to miss out on all the grub!”

“I’ll be back soon!” she shouted with a wave. Then she turned her back on the lights and noise and headed once more to the ruins of the city square.

Hendrik was standing alone in front of the monument, gazing up at it with an expression of such seriousness that her footsteps faltered and stopped. She debated with herself for a moment about whether it was _really_ worth disturbing him and had just resolved to slip away again when he turned.

He seemed unsurprised to see her and leaned down in a bow with his fist to his heart. Too late now to back out; Jade walked over and joined him at the monument. 

“Princess Jade,” he greeted her. “I had thought you at the festivities.”

“I was,” she acknowledged. “But then I saw that you weren’t there and—well, came to find you.”

Hendrik turned to look up at the monument again. “With the crowd occupied by the feast and the lighting still adequate, it seemed a good time to more closely examine the statue.”

“That makes sense,” she said. “It’s very fine work from what I could tell.”

He nodded his acknowledgement but did not speak further. Jade’s eyes roved over the exquisite marble and stone creation along with him; she knew little of art, but it _was_ a very beautiful piece. She was glad they’d been able to get the Watchers to help with Drustan’s likeness.

“What is that you carry?” Hendrik asked suddenly. She started and turned her head to see him looking curiously down at her wreath.

“Oh, it’s...” Jade fought off the urge to shove it behind herself and deny its existence. Was she a princess who had faced down legendary evildoers or wasn’t she? “It’s for you, actually. I made it for...for the dedication.”

He held out a hand and she passed it over, quailing inwardly at how much more misshapen it had become in the intervening hours. He lifted it up to look more closely and she saw his eyes widen.

“Princess...” he murmured, seemingly at a loss for words.

“I...know it isn’t as fine as the others,” she found herself saying, distractedly toying with the hem of her shirt. The understatement of the year—the century, perhaps.

Hendrik slipped off his glove and reached out to brush gentle fingers over one of the daffodils.

“It is perfect,” he told her, voice gone slightly hoarse. His throat bobbed in a swallow. “Thank you.”

She didn’t know at all what to say. After a moment, he knelt down to carefully lay the wreath at the base of the monument. Jade’s throat felt strangely tight as she watched him tuck one of the flowers back into place before rising again. They looked down at it together, the sun’s last rays casting their golden light on the square.

Zwaardsrust. Dundrasil. Lady Eleanor and King Irwin. Her mother, and his. Even Jasper—not the man he’d become but the boy he’d once been, who had caught her trying to break a window and shown her how to do it better. How could anyone bear the weight of so much loss? How had _he_, through all the long years?

Jade turned to the west, to the eternal tree in the distance with its promise of peace and renewal. Maybe people weren’t meant to bear it alone; maybe they were always intended to help each other through it.

She reached out, achingly tentative, and brushed her fingers along his. She saw his jaw clench and his eyes fill with a telltale shimmering before he blinked it away. He did not draw back as she expected him to, however; he instead pulled her hand into his and clasped them tightly together, as if never intending to let go.

That was just fine with her. They stayed there until their friends found them and dragged them back to the party, its noise and light a beacon in the long-deserted ruins.


	7. Before: Gallopolis | After: Heliodor

╔══════════════╗  
**Before: Gallopolis**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


Prince Faris was, in every respect Jade could determine and probably a few more besides, a _complete_ idiot.

She’d heard the stories from her friends’ adventures before she and Rab had joined, but it was quite another thing to see it with her own eyes. In the short time they’d traversed the Celestial Sands together, he’d proven himself brash, pompous, lily-livered, and incapable of opening his mouth without sticking his foot entirely in it. There couldn’t be a larger difference between him and the only _other _sixteen-year-old of her acquaintance, who sometimes seemed to go a whole _week _without speaking.

(Honestly, she would give a great deal to know what Lady Eleanor would have thought of the prince of Gallopolis.)

Fortunately for Jade, a random martial artist of no apparent importance was beneath the esteemed prince’s notice. He’d attached himself mostly to Sylvando, who for some ridiculous reason seemed fond of the boy. She saw them conversing together by the training area, where Sylvando’s impish ironies were no doubt sailing right over Faris’s head.

Something brushed along the edge of her calf, startling her from her observations. Jade looked down to see a white and brown tabby curling its way around her boots with a loud purr.

“Hello there,” she said, dropping into a crouch and reaching out to it. “Enjoying your return home?” The cat bumped its head into her offered hand, rumbling contentedly.

There seemed to be cats _everywhere_ throughout the palace, a stark change from their first visit the day before. Something about the fall of Erdwin’s Lantern had apparently unsettled them. Frankly, it had unsettled Jade, too; she didn’t know what to make of it _or _the mysterious ‘saviour’ who’d destroyed the star. Maybe Rab would have some luck digging into the palace archives.

The cat flopped to the floor and rolled over to show its belly in invitation. Jade smiled and rubbed it with gentle fingers. She’d always wanted a cat, but her father had terrible allergies. Could Serena possibly whip up some concoction for that? It was worth checking up on.

Impossibly large boots entered her field of vision. “Princess Jade,” came a respectful voice.

She didn’t look up from her enthusiastic new friend. “Is it almost time for supper?”

“I have been informed so,” Hendrik replied. “It is very generous of Their Majesties to host us this evening.”

“Probably the least they can do after forcing us to put up with their son,” Jade muttered.

The boots, already starting to turn away, halted. “What was that, Princess?”

“Nothing.” She gave the wonderfully soft tummy one more scratch and then rose. A plaintive meow followed her and she felt a guilty pang. She looked to Hendrik, who was staring down at the cat with an almost comical expression of skepticism on his face.

“Not fond of cats, Hendrik?” she asked archly.

“We do not typically...see eye to eye,” he replied, and then she nearly _did_ laugh at the mental image of his hoisting a cat all the way up in the air in order to properly glare at it.

“Well, you’d better get used to them,” she teased as they started walking toward the dining room together. “I plan on adopting at least _five _after we rebuild Heliodor.”

He stumbled and his head jerked to hers with alarm. “Princess, surely you remember the king’s severe allergy to the creatures! I must strongly advise against this course you have determined—”

Jade rolled her eyes and brushed her bangs back from her face. Never let it be said that Sir Hendrik did not keep the royal family’s particularities at the forefront of his mind. “I was only joking.”

Hendrik blinked at her and then coughed into his hand. “Ah. Well. Carry on,” he said awkwardly, and she could not help the whisper of fondness that wound through her.

Supper was thankfully a small affair. Jade sat near one end of the table, as far away from Faris as possible. Erik was on one side of her and the Sultana at the head, with Hendrik and Serena across. The traditional Gallopitan cuisine was exquisitely prepared and as delicious as Jade remembered from her last visit to the kingdom. She contented herself with eating, only paying as much attention to the Sultana’s conversation as courtesy required.

“My, but you are both very beautiful young ladies,” she said, smiling at Jade and Serena. “It seems Queen Eleanor’s son has much he could teach my own.”

Serena blushed and self-consciously tucked her short hair behind her ears. Jade paused in the act of bringing her spoon to her mouth and pasted on her most excruciatingly polite smile. “I’m sure Prince Faris has many charms of his own, Your Majesty.”

“Only too true!” the Sultana beamed. “Why, not even a year from winning his first Sand National, he has been beset by proposals of marriage from all parts of the world!”

This, Jade secretly doubted, but she was able to rally enough of her childhood training in diplomacy to control her reaction. Erik—lacking even in proper _shoes_ for much of his life—was less successful. He choked on his soup and doubled over in a coughing fit until Jade pounded on his back.

“But Sir Hendrik,” the Sultana then said, so abruptly that the man in question jolted in his chair, “I have never heard word of _your_ nuptials. Surely you cannot still be unwed?”

Jade watched with amusement as Hendrik hastily swallowed his mouthful of wine and set the goblet back down on the table with a clunk. “I, er...I must confess that I am not, Your Majesty,” he said in a flustered voice.

“Whyever not?” the Sultana demanded. “A renowned knight such as yourself must be nearly as favoured as my son!”

“I have not had occasion to—there are certain duties that keep me much—with the World Tree’s fall, I have found myself—” Hendrik, approximately as red as a tomato by that point, was spared from further torment by a servant coming up to the Sultana and whispering in her ear. She nodded and turned back to the table.

“I will return shortly, after I have attended to a matter in the kitchens,” she told them before rising gracefully from her chair and leaving.

Erik dropped his spoon into his bowl with a clatter and shook his head. “These nobles, man—I’ll never get used to them.”

“You might be surprised,” Jade said with a secret smile.

Across from her, Hendrik had grabbed his goblet again with some desperation when his hand suddenly froze and he stared at something just over Jade’s shoulder.

A throat cleared behind her. “I have just heard the most incredible account!” declared a very loud, _very_ nearby voice. Jade turned in her chair, stomach dropping precipitously.

Prince Faris stood there, hat slightly askew and cape dramatically thrown back. He pointed at Jade with a grand flourish of his hand. “You...are Princess Jade of Heliodor!”

There was a pause, their end of the table suddenly grown deathly quiet. “Yes,” Jade agreed. “I’m aware.”

“Aha!” Faris scurried to take his mother’s chair. “I almost could not believe it when my companion informed me!”

Jade leaned forward to send a hard stare down the table; at the other end, Sylvando winced and mouthed ‘sorry’ at her. She sat back in her chair and swallowed a sigh. “Well, it is what it is, I suppose.”

The prince nodded vigorously. “It is indeed! Our fathers were once close friends, were they not?”

Beside her, Erik muttered a fabricated excuse and made his way to the other end of the table to join Rab and his grandson; Jade had never envied the young man more than in that moment. She racked her brain and was regretfully forced to discard several effective but _very_ impolitic ways to get out of the situation. The Sultan had been kind to them, and it was probably best she didn’t start any wars before she’d even resumed her place as heir to the throne.

“I believe so,” she responded to Faris. “He used to tell me of the races they competed in together as young men.” She smiled at the memory. “According to my father, he won nearly all of them.”

Faris stared at her incredulously. “A jest, surely!” he cried. “For I know truly that my _own_ father was victorious—every single time! As can only be expected of the royal house of Gallopolis! Ha ha ha!”

Even Serena appeared to reach her limit at that point. The young woman pled a need to refresh herself, shooting Jade a sympathetic smile as she went. Only Hendrik remained—where he had _better_ if he knew what was good for him, Jade decided darkly as her fingers tightened around her spoon. The knight was actually looking rather aghast at the idea of her father’s having fabricated his accomplishments, and she hurried to push past the moment before they all got bogged down in it.

“Never mind that,” she said, forcing herself to relax her jaw. “Was there something you needed, Prince Faris?”

“Of course!” The prince attempted to throw back his cape and it snagged one of the chair arms. “The reason I have sought you out is...a proposal!”

Jade inwardly rubbed at her temples. “A proposal for what?”

Faris stared at her as if unable to believe her obtuseness. “No no,” he insisted, “I mean only what I said. I am here to propose marriage!”

Across the table, Hendrik knocked over his goblet. “_What?_” he exclaimed.

The prince shot him a frown and gestured at the table. “Have a care, Sir Hendrik! The linens are made from the finest Gallopitan cotton.” Belatedly, Hendrik realized his mistake and scrambled to grab napkins to soak up the wine.

“Well?” Faris asked, turning back to the object of his matrimonial hopes. “What say you, Princess Jade?”

Fortunately, the distraction had given Jade time to pull her composure back together. “I’m...a little taken aback,” she answered honestly.

“Ha ha! And how could you not be?” He adjusted his hat on his head and beamed at her. “Is there a woman in all of Erdrea who would _not_ be honoured by such a request from Prince Faris of Gallopolis: reigning champion of the Sand National and slayer of the, er, Slayer of Sands?”

If there were such others, Jade felt they would swiftly become good friends. Her eyes darted to Hendrik, now finished his damage control and sitting stiffly in his chair with one tight fist resting beside his plate. She was startled to see him looking a bit..._worried_, and nearly laughed at the absurdity. He didn’t really think she might accept, did he?

Suddenly the whole situation tipped over from frustration to farce. “You _do_ have a point there,” she agreed, and was amused to see Hendrik’s gaze jerk toward her with alarm. “But I’m not sure I’m quite ready to commit yet. There might be _other_ Sand National winners and Slayer slayers waiting in the wings, you see.”

“A ridiculous idea!” Faris scoffed. He shook his head pityingly at her. “You do not seem to understand the auspicious opportunity before you, Princess Jade. We could even have the ceremony tonight before you leave!”

“Oh, but that wouldn’t do at all,” she fretted, secretly delighting in the open dismay of one very still, very flushed knight. “You can’t expect a lady to get married without her own father in attendance.”

Faris waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Sir Hendrik here could stand in for him, could he not? Why, he is old enough to be your father himself!”

The strangled sound that came from Hendrik’s throat was such as she had only heard from dying monsters. He obviously felt himself incapable of interrupting a conversation between two royals, and Jade finally decided to grant mercy to him. 

“I’m afraid I must decline,” she told the prince. “We’re quite busy saving the world at the moment and I’m not sure what my schedule will look like after that.”

He tugged his cape over his shoulders with a haughty look. “I hope that your certain future regret about this day does not overwhelm you,” he declared graciously. “But you may at least console yourself that the honour of your first proposal belonged to me, Prince Faris of Gallopolis!”

The prince pushed back the chair with so much force he had to grab onto the table to keep his balance. Then, with another dramatic twirl, he stalked back to the far side of the table.

“What an absolute ass,” Jade shook her head. She looked mournfully down at the soup that had long grown cold, _already_ regretting Faris’s proposal—although for a very different reason than he’d intended.

Across from her, Hendrik cleared his throat and spoke in a strained voice. “It...would not be an inadvisable match, politically speaking.”

Jade’s eyes flew up to his. “You don’t really think I should have considered it?” she asked incredulously.

“Certainly not!” The vehemence of his response sent a strange warmth fluttering through her chest. He then seemed to catch himself and swallowed hard. “I...I speak only of the implications of state, Princess,” he continued in a more neutral tone.

She snorted. “The only implication _I _can see is that Gallopolis is in for a very difficult time when _that _idiot ascends the throne.”

“You may have a point,” Hendrik sighed, drumming his fingers on the table. “I had thought to invite the prince to Heliodor for training after the war, but now...”

Jade jabbed her spoon at him threateningly. “If you ever allow the fool to come within ten _miles _of Heliodor, I’m abdicating the throne.”

“I would not dream of it, Princess,” he assured her with a small smile.

The Sultana finally returned from the kitchens and reclaimed her recently-vacated seat. “But where have all the others gone?” she asked, looking around with confusion.

“Pressing engagements elsewhere, Your Majesty,” Jade said with aplomb.

“Oh. Very well.” She turned to Hendrik. “Now tell me, how does dear Obsidian fare?”

Jade smiled as Hendrik’s face lit up and he entered into conversation more eagerly than in the past decade of his life, probably. She grabbed a dinner roll from the basket and tore off a hunk in a decidedly unladylike manner.

Her first proposal, indeed. _Faris_ should be so lucky to have that honour. Her eyes flicked back to Hendrik and she smiled again, feeling that warmth grow until it filled her all the way through.  
  


╔══════════════╗  
**After: Heliodor**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


“There isn’t any helping it,” the groom said, shaking his head dolefully. “We’re going to have to cut it out.”

Hendrik crossed his arms with a scowl. “Have I not expressed in the strongest possible terms the need for routine thistle-clearing in the pastures?”

“Of course, Sir Hendrik!” the man assured him. “I think the farmhands just got a bit...behind while you were off on your journey. I’ll have them get to work straight away.”

“See that you do,” Hendrik grunted. “And fetch the scissors—I will deal with _this_ unfortunate situation myself.”

The groom scurried out of the stall so quickly that the door banged shut behind him. Hendrik once more lifted Obsidian’s tail, burning with disapproval as he examined the mass of knots and snarls caught within. The horse turned his head to look at his master, naked reproof in his eyes.

“I am not any happier than you,” Hendrik told him grimly. “Rest assured that the perpetrators of this outrage will come to deeply regret their laxity.”

Obsidian snorted and turned back to his feeding tray. A cool breeze floated in from the open windows of the castle stables, carrying with it a hint of rain. The weather had proven unreliable lately and Hendrik had not had the chance to exercise his horse as often as he would have liked. Clearly he would need to make a greater effort, if this was what awaited his mount in the grazing fields.

While waiting for the groom to return, Hendrik spotted what looked suspiciously like _another_ thistle caught in the hairs near Obsidian’s right fetlock. As he bent down with a frown, he heard the main stable doors open followed by a flurry of activity.

“Get the brushes ready!” called one of the grooms outside the stall. “The princess is almost back!”

Hendrik paused in his crouched position on the floor, torn between his desire to finish his current task—for it _was_ yet another accursed thistle—and his clear obligation to greet a member of the royal family with their due respect. Better to give the princess time to put away her gear, he decided, and _then _offer her escort back to the castle.

She had been diligent with her horse-riding training since their return and Hendrik was impressed by her progress. He knew that the independence was a great motivator for her, as she enjoyed having the ability to escape the routines of castle life in order to visit the Luminary and his family in Cobblestone. Its usefulness in forging social connections could also not be denied: the formation of riding parties was a common pastime in Heliodorian society.

There was a sharp staccato of hooves on the stable floor and then the sounds of someone dismounting.

“Welcome back, Your Highness!” said another groom, a capable young woman to whom Hendrik often entrusted Obsidian’s care. “We were worried you wouldn’t return before the rain.”

“I’ve been rained on before,” came Princess Jade’s reply. “Though I suppose it saves _you_ the work if I don’t bring my horse back covered in mud.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble for us!” the other woman assured her. “It just gets a bit slippery on the pathways, is all.”

Hendrik glared down at the stubborn thistle as he worked at it with careful fingers. Obsidian shifted irritably and he reached up to pat one large flank. Outside the stall, the conversation between the groom and his princess continued on, and he did his best not to listen in; the very thought of eavesdropping was so far below a man of his station that it did not even bear consideration.

“Did you have a nice outing with Lord Realgar and Lady Natron?” the groom inquired.

“Pleasant enough,” replied the princess. Hendrik heard rustling sounds and then hoofsteps as her horse was led away. “We had lunch with their parents and then Lord Realgar took me out for a ride along the hunting paths near their estate.”

The Triphane siblings were from one of the oldest families in Heliodor. Hendrik was not well acquainted with the lady, but Lord Realgar had involved himself in court affairs more frequently that past year, doubtless to ease the burden on his ailing father. A fine young man, with a good head on his shoulders and an earnest sense of responsibility. A pity he had never sought a military career; the officer corps always had a use for the bright, talented sons and daughters of Heliodor.

“That sounds lovely, Your Highness,” the groom was saying.

“Not altogether,” Princess Jade sighed. “When we stopped at a spring to refresh the horses, he asked me to marry him.”

Hendrik froze, fingers stuttering to a halt on the knotted thistle. A thousand recollections suddenly barreled to the forefront of his mind: instances of Lord Realgar’s rash and foolhardy behaviour, patterns of brazen indiscretion, rumours of profligacy and debauchery. Hendrik had been most derelict in his duty by not informing the king of his serious reservations with the man’s suitability for the royal council.

“_Lord Realgar _did?” the groom gasped. “What did you say?”

Princess Jade snorted. “Same thing I did to the others, of course.” (_Others?_ Hendrik's clenched teeth began to grind against themselves.) “I’m very flattered and appreciate the honour, et cetera et cetera, but I’m not interested in any change in status at this time.”

“What was his response?” the other woman asked eagerly. Hendrik craned his ears to listen, deciding then and there that Lord Realgar’s future health and vitality depended _very_ greatly on the answer.

“He took it rather well, all told. It almost seemed to be a relief.” There was a loud scrape of leather as the princess presumably removed her riding boots. “Honestly, I think his family put him up to it. The sudden appearance of an unmarried princess has opened up all _sorts_ of new opportunities for the political machinations of Heliodor’s noblest.”

“Still, he _is_ rather handsome,” the groom sighed with a note of longing in her voice.

Princess Jade paused for what seemed an interminably long time; Hendrik found himself holding his breath, his chest knotted tightly.

“I suppose so,” she said finally, “if you’re into the slight, pretty type. I rather prefer a more...robust sort, myself. The kind who can put up a proper challenge in the sparring ring.”

The thistle dropped from Hendrik’s limp fingers as his mind raced through the possibilities. Lord Trona? Captain Borax? Even Sir Albite, perhaps? Hendrik had seen them in the courtyard together the week previous and had assumed them to be speaking of polearm technique, but...

Outside the stall, the groom laughed. “Not many princesses have _that_ as a requirement for courtship, Your Highness.”

“I think it’s as perfectly valid as any _other_ quality,” the princess countered. “How else am I to judge their suitability—how far back they can trace their family tree?”

At that moment, Obsidian finally lost patience with the knight’s dilatory behaviour and let out a querulous nicker. To Hendrik’s absolute horror, he heard the princess approach the stall and saw her stretch one graceful hand over the top of the door.

“Hello, Obsidian,” she said. “Is that stern master of yours not giving you enough attention lately?”

The horse started to turn, heedless of Hendrik’s desperate attempts to hold him still. The knight scrambled to avoid those massive hooves and found himself flattened up against the door of the stall while Obsidian leaned his head out above him. Hendrik’s heart raced and his breath came in short gasps, straining with all his might to remain still enough to avoid detection.

“There, that’s better, isn’t it?” Princess Jade cooed as she rubbed the horse’s nose. Obsidian’s eyes closed with contentment and Hendrik felt a brief, _entirely _unaccountable surge of envy.

After an eternal minute—that by Hendrik’s estimate comprised a length of sixty years or more—the princess gave the horse one last pat on the nose and her hand disappeared over the edge of the door. Hendrik heard her turn and walk away from the stall again, a rustling sound indicating that she had begun to gather up her equipment.

Relief coursed through him and he sagged against the door. His mind immediately turned to strategy: all thoughts of escort or greeting were, of course, discarded; the princess must never learn of his inadvertent surveillance, so disrespectful to her privacy. To that end, a discreet word with the groom would well be within the bounds of—

“I’m so sorry, Sir Hendrik! I finally found those scissors for you!”

Hendrik’s head jerked up violently. Before he could move a muscle or make any form of protest, the door of the stall was yanked open and he tumbled out onto the stable floor, landing flat on his back.

“Sir, are you all right?” The upside-down face of the groom appeared in his field of vision and peered down, blinking at him. A moment later, it was joined by another, _much_ more familiar—and unquestionably more beautiful—one.

The knight lurched over, hands and knees skidding on the musty floor in his efforts to find his footing. Finally he found purchase and hauled himself upright, his chest heaving and dishevelled hair dangling in front of his eyes. Two people in front of him and a third across the room stared.

“P-Princess Jade,” Hendrik choked out with a hasty bow. “I—I am glad to see you back safely from your ride.”

She nodded slowly, delicate eyebrows knit together. “Thank you, Hendrik.”

The grooms at that moment seemed to decide that pressing duties awaited them on the opposite end of the stable. The scissors were dropped on a bench nearby with a hurried “Here, sir!” and then the area vacated. Princess Jade watched them go before her gaze turned back to Hendrik.

“Princess, I...” He struggled to come up with any apology sufficient for the egregious offence he had committed. His despairing eyes noted a number of potential weapons in the room, should she choose a more direct method of chastisement.

To his astonishment, however, she sounded nearer to _uncertainty_ when she spoke. “Were you...there the whole time?” she asked. There was an inexplicable flush to her complexion that Hendrik could not fathom; the chilly temperatures, perhaps?

“A thousand apologies, Your Highness,” he said in a strangled voice, bowing again. “I should better have revealed myself immediately. I swear to you that I will _never _allow such an unseemly occurrence again.”

There was a pause. “It’s all right,” she told him. His eyes flew up to hers, almost unable to believe the depth of her mercy. Still that flush remained, but her composure seemed more intact. He bowed once more for good measure, nearly overcome by the unearned reprieve he had been granted.

“I suppose I’d better get going,” the princess said then, turning from him to fetch her pack from the floor. “I have a few things to do before supper.”

“Do you wish an escort back to the castle?” Hendrik asked, anxious to serve.

“Not any more _this_ time than the last _hundred_ you’ve asked me,” she said with a smile. “Tend to poor Obsidian, instead—he’s missed you.”

Hendrik nodded and had just picked up the scissors when her voice halted him: “Hendrik?”

His head jerked up to see Princess Jade biting her lip as she looked at him. “Please don’t tell my father about Realgar or the others,” she said quietly. “I’ve only just got back and I don’t want to...complicate things.”

“Not a word shall pass my lips,” Hendrik declared. Then he hesitated. “If I may be so bold as to ask, Princess—”

Her lips curved into her truest smile yet, and Hendrik’s stomach flipped over at how well it served to accentuate her loveliness.

“No, I am absolutely _not _telling you their names,” she said firmly. ”The last thing we need is for bodies to start turning up and civil war to break out, wouldn’t you say?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” he replied, abashed. But still the gnawing worry remained; surely none of his own officers would be so reckless as to have—

Princess Jade hoisted her bag onto her shoulder and tilted her head at him. “Don’t worry, Hendrik. If I ever _do_ start seriously considering it, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Then she disappeared through the doorway and left one very confused, very rattled knight behind her.


	8. Before: Battleground | After: Heliodor

╔══════════════╗  
**Before: Battleground**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


The vast majority of the time, Hendrik revelled in his position among the Luminary and his companions. They were to a man—and woman—noble, fearless, and loyal; determination itself given life and breath. Whatever else would happen in his life, he would always feel the honour of having been of their company.

For a small, tragically significant part of the time, however...

“So truly, ye dinnae know how fortunate ye are, lad,” Lord Robert told his grandson with a wag of his finger. “Back in _my_ day, the puff-puffs didnae fall out of the very sky like they seem to with _ye_. Why, we carried out whole _expeditions _in search of their elusive delights!”

Across the campfire, the Luminary smiled into his mug of tea. Erik beside him was staring at Lord Robert with his eyebrows raised skeptically, while Sylvando tuned his instrument on a nearby rock, a profoundly irritating smirk on his face.

Hendrik sat by the fire with his head buried deep in his hands, as he had ever since Lord Robert’s _second _enthusiastic account of notable puff-puffs in his life. The sole reason the knight had not already fetched his own sword and fallen upon it in despair, was that the ladies were—thank the _heavens_—gone to retrieve water from a spring they had seen earlier in the ancient battleground. That they had declined Hendrik’s offer of accompaniment was chief among his many, many regrets that evening.

“I just don’t see what the big deal is,” Erik said with a shrug of his shoulder. “All these magazines and bunny suits and everything—seems kinda silly, you know?”

Lord Robert let out a scandalized gasp. “‘_Silly_’? No, lad, anything but! The art of puff-puff has a long, storied history going back for generations—”

“Now you’ve got him going all _over _again,” Sylvando sighed. He squinted into the bell of his horn. “I think poor Hendrik here’s about to keel over, isn’t that right, honey?”

Hendrik cleared his throat weakly. “It might be wisest to find an alternate topic of conversation before the ladies return from their errand. We could speak, perhaps, of swords—”

“Och, such prudery!” Lord Robert scoffed. “It must be something in the Heliodor waters, I tell ye. I never heard the end of it from the lass when _we _were knocking about together.”

“Maybe our princess just got tired of lugging around ten pounds of _scandalous_ magazines all the time,” Sylvando suggested.

Across the way, Erik snorted. “Have you looked in his pack lately? Probably more like twenty.”

A sudden horrifying thought occurred to Hendrik as he recalled the former king’s mentioning the various deceptions that he and Princess Jade had resorted to over the years.

“L-Lord Robert,” he choked out, “_please_ tell me that during your travels the princess never assumed the guise of a...of a...” He found he could not even properly form lips and tongue around the word ‘puff-puff’, let alone actually utter it.

“What d’ye take me for, lad?” the old man asked, offended. “I’d never have encouraged such a ruse. Above all else, a puff-puff must be willingly given!”

“Oh, are we discussing puff-puffs?”

At the sound of Serena’s interested voice, Hendrik tried to determine the most expeditious way he could sink through the very floor below him. The priestess appeared from the shadows with a bucket in her arms, Princess Jade following closely behind her. Serena placed the bucket by their cooking gear and then sat eagerly down before the fire.

“You know, I’ve been wondering something,” she said, face filled with animation. “How _do_ puff-puff girls manage business in towns without good cliffs to leap off? It seems awfully inconvenient to have to travel for it.”

Sylvando gestured with his instrument. “Well, you see, darling, the way it actually works in _other _places—” he started to explain. Hendrik desperately searched for some method by which he might silence the man—a rock strategically tossed into his horn, perhaps?—but it shortly proved unnecessary.

“No!” The princess swatted Sylvando and he let out a yelp. She put her hands on her hips and looked around sternly at the group. “I won’t have any of you miscreants corrupting the one truly good person among us. You’re all incorrigible, I swear.”

“Hey, don’t lump _me_ in with all of them!” Erik protested.

Lord Robert chuckled and stroked his bushy mustache. “We dinnae mean any harm by it, lass. I well know ye to have respect for the hustle of a good businesswoman.”

Princess Jade lowered herself to the rocky floor beside Serena, her long legs stretching out before her. “Of course, but this obsession with what a lady does with her assets certainly can get tiresome.”

Her eyes seemed to catch Hendrik’s and he felt a deep shame wash over him at the censure he perceived there. To have even been a passive participant of such discourse was beneath him, both as a knight of Heliodor _and_ as a man, and his future queen was well within her rights to reproach him for it.

Hendrik scrambled up all at once, grabbing his sword and buckling it back onto his belt. “I believe we require more wood for the fire,” he declared. “I shall fetch it.”

“By yourself? Are you sure, honey?” Sylvando asked, looking up from his horn.

“Most definitely.” Hendrik hurried away before anyone else could object, leaving behind the light of the fire and the protection of the holy statue both.

Through the holes in the craggy walls of the battleground, he could see dark clouds skidding across the night sky. It was an oppressive place and the sooner they retrieved the legendary forging material, the better. They then had only to discover the location of the forge itself before the final assault on the fiendish Mordegon could begin. So too were there other scores to settle, and as Hendrik gathered stray branches off the cavern floor, he grimly tried to focus his thoughts on the injustices he would soon make right.

But try though he might, his mind kept drifting back to Princess Jade and her steely gaze, so filled with reproof as she had looked at him. It bore away at him, burrowing down into the deepest core of Hendrik’s stern sense of honour and propriety. She could not know of his youthful indiscretions, so long regretted, or the wickedness that beat within his heart; but still something of his disgraceful thoughts must be laid bare before her, and he had come up lacking in the balance.

His hand went to his sword hilt and he straightened grimly. For the sake of Heliodor and his princess, he _would_ endure and overcome all such unseemliness—or perish in the attempt.

It was only decades of onerous training that spared him from the first blow as the monsters suddenly came upon him. Hendrik’s sword whistled out of its scabbard in an instant and ran through the closest of them before it could utter a sound. He parried the second and followed it up with a brutal counterattack, dispatching it with all the efficiency a renowned knight was known for. He fell back to catch his breath, eyeing the third warily.

They were a squat, peculiar-looking variety of beast that the party had encountered several times during the course of their journey through the Battleground. Not particularly resilient, although there was something he knew he ought to be watchful of, something that had just slipped his mind—

Hendrik remembered too late, the noxious fumes blasting into him at full force.

The world spun around him deliriously. He instinctively tightened his grip on his sword even as a great cacophony sounded in his head, drowning out memory, sense, even thought itself. He was only half-aware of the sharp cry that came from behind him and he squinted as he sought the source, trying to bring his bleary vision back into focus. 

There: a figure leapt on top of the monster with a vicious kick and it fell to the floor with a gurgling cry before puffing into smoke. The figure then turned toward him and he took one alarmed step backward as he beheld it.

She was the most bewitching, alluring creature he had ever seen in his life, as though plucked directly from his darkest fantasies. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of her long hair, captivating eyes, and seductive curves of her body, highlighted by the form-fitting black and green clothing she wore. Her lips curled wickedly and her voice was filled with sinful temptation as she spoke: “Hendrik? Are you all right?” 

His hands tightened on his sword once more and he raised it high in front. She _must_ be a foul succubus, sent from the Lord of Shadows himself to test his worth. Even as his resolve hardened, he felt a shuddering terror coil through him at the very sight of her; she was as enticing as she was petrifying, and the two reactions warred through him in a hopeless tangle of confusion.

“Begone, monster!” he snarled to cover up his fear. The air was all fog around him, doubtless due to the succubus’s evil enchantment.

The creature fell back into a defensive position. “Hendrik, what in the world—” She looked sharply at him and he braced himself for an attack; but still she did not move, clearly concocting some more insidious plan instead. “Oh dear,” she said with a malevolent frown, “they must have hit you with...and I don’t think I have any angel bells on me...”

While the succubus was distracted, he seized his chance. Sucking in a deep breath to cow the dread within his breast, he charged with a bellow. She nimbly dodged his first swing and then the next, and his great overhanded slash met only with empty air as his sword clanged onto the rocky floor. Struggling to lift it again, a noise came from behind him and he spun.

“Let’s try _this!_” was all he heard before a foot met his face and he crashed to the ground. There was a strident ringing in his ears and he gasped as the fog swirled and lifted and the world seemed somehow to right itself around him.

Gentle hands were on him the next moment, brushing his hair back from his face. Hendrik blinked up as Princess Jade swam into view, looking down at him.

“Are you all right?” she asked with concern in her voice.

“I...I believe so...” he rasped. He shook his head and winced at the throbbing pain in one of his cheeks.

The princess’s face relaxed and she smiled. “Good. I didn’t want to have to hit you even harder. I don’t have any herbs, so you’ll have to heal yourself.”

Hendrik raised a shaking hand and a bright flash of light illuminated the rocky corners of the cave. The soreness eased from his cheek and disappeared. He took in a short breath and turned to his princess, an altogether _different_ ache rising within him at the sight of her.

“No,” she said firmly when he opened his mouth. “You promised you wouldn’t fall all over yourself in apology when this kind of thing happens, remember? It’s just a part of battle—nothing more.”

He knew she was correct, but still the burning need to apologize remained. Casting his still-frazzled mind about for something, _anything_, to ease his burdened conscience, he blurted out: “F-Forgive me for speaking so inappropriately of puff-puff, Princess!”

She stared at him blankly for one long moment before bursting into laughter. 

“I...” Hendrik manfully tried to recover his wits in the face of such a confounding reaction. “I meant only that...I would in no way wish to lose your esteem or—or bring shame upon Heliodor...”

“Goodness, Hendrik,” she said, wiping at her eyes with one finger. “It would take a lot more than _that_ to bring dishonour upon crown and kingdom, wouldn’t you say? I was only teasing you all earlier.”

“Oh,” he gasped. “I did not realize...”

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.” Her gaze was unaccountably soft as she looked down at him and his chest tightened. She was beautiful in the dim glow of the cavern, once more in that familiar, earthly way that struck him with every flash of her eyes or curve of her lips. But still, still the tiny whisper of fear remained; the fear of everything terrible that might happen in the future.

The fear of everything _good,_ that he could not ever imagine deserving.

“Come on,” the princess continued brusquely, rising from her crouch. “We should get back before the others come looking and _none _of us gets any sleep tonight.”

“As you say, Princess,” Hendrik replied. Regardless of anything else, their quest was of the utmost importance; all other thoughts he shoved down to where they could not trouble him.

Together they gathered the scattered firewood to bring back to the campsite. When Hendrik reached for the last branch he found the princess doing likewise, and their hands met upon it. His gaze jerked up to hers, an apology on his lips.

Princess Jade was looking at him in a serious way that made his breath catch. “I...do hope you know there’s nothing you could ever do to lose my respect, Hendrik,” she said quietly. 

His heart pounded and he felt his tongue so tied as to be incapable of speech. Most _especially_ when she smiled slyly and added: “No matter _how_ many subscriptions to The Ogler’s Digest you’ve taken out over the years.”

Hendrik felt a flush race all the way up his neck and the princess laughed again, an enchanting sound that seemed to brighten up the lifeless cavern around them. She teased him relentlessly the whole way back but he could not bring himself to mind, so long as it kept that wonderful smile on her face.  
  


╔══════════════╗  
**After: Heliodor**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


Heliodor Castle’s newest pastry chef was honestly _too_ talented. Equally a sorceress with chocolates, cakes, and candies, it would be impossible to expect anyone with even a marginal sweet tooth to deny themselves. Or at least that’s what Jade told herself as she left the kitchens on silent feet, licking the crumbs off her fingers in a way that would scandalize any governess. It was her third late night visit that week, and she was beginning to fear for her digestion—as well as her father’s.

She’d been startled the first time they’d met in the early hours of the morning, both beelining for the cinnamon rolls in the pantry. Her father’s eyebrows had shot high on his head before relaxing into a secret smile. He’d held a finger to his lips and given her a wink, and somehow this had forged more common ground between them than the hours of council meetings and statecraft lessons. They even lingered at times now, sharing a cup of tea and a slice of pie while the conversation flowed, so much more easily in the quiet darkness than the bustle of daytime duties.

He hadn’t been there that night, though, and Jade felt the relief of it. Her father wasn’t a young man and the aftereffects of Mordegon’s possession still troubled him; he’d looked tired at supper and she’d insisted on his going to bed early. Perhaps she’d bring him a treat at breakfast instead, she decided.

Her steps took her through the downstairs hallway and past Hendrik’s room. Ordinarily she chose the opposite side to avoid detection, what with Jasper’s quarters being still unoccupied. It wasn’t that she wasn’t _allowed_ to go wherever she wished at whatever time she wished it, but Hendrik seemed to have some sixth sense that a member of the royal family was out of the safe confines of their bedchambers, and this rather avoided all the...awkwardness.

_“Princess Jade? Is something amiss?” Worried eyes under a furrowed brow, his hair rumpled and his sleeping shirt open at the collar._

_“Oh. Well, not really, I was just...going for a late night stroll, you see.” Her hands trying to hide the enormous soufflé she held behind herself._

_A frown, his mouth opening to speak before catching sight of her attempted deception. A single pause followed by a mumbled “It seems the royal family of Heliodor shares many traits between them...” Then a short bow and the door shut closed once more._

Jade’s reasoning for her choice of path that night was that she knew Hendrik to be gone, out with the other knights celebrating Sir Larimar’s upcoming nuptials. He hadn’t been keen on the outing earlier but she’d browbeat him into it, leaning hard on the concepts of ‘bolstering camaraderie with the troops’ and ‘keeping morale high’. Never let it be said that Sir Hendrik didn’t need to be outright tricked into taking a break for once.

He _had_ been working too hard lately and she worried for him. Jasper—whatever his other qualities—had been a fine administrator and was proving difficult to replace. It felt like she hardly saw Hendrik some days, and if he was too busy to attend to the royal family, then he was _definitely_ not taking enough time for himself. Better to get him out of the castle for a while, doing whatever it was men did when carousing.

(Jade had her suspicions, which she pointedly decided not to think about too much.)

At any rate, now that her sweet tooth was satisfied, it was decidedly time to return to bed. She covered a yawn with one hand as she entered the Great Hall and thought dreamily of the tart fixings that had been laid out on one kitchen counter, surely ready by breakfast time.

She was almost up the stairs when there was a commotion at the front entrance. The doors banged open and in stumbled two of the night guards struggling with all their might to haul an enormous burden between them—an enormous, man-shaped, _purple-haired_ burden.

Jade flew down the steps three at a time and met the party in the middle of the hall. The guards looked up at her in surprise, but she only had eyes for their charge. Hendrik stumbled forward with one tree-trunk-sized arm slung around each guard’s shoulders, his head lolling and boots scraping on the marble floor. Even from a distance of several feet, he practically _reeked_ of alcohol.

“What’s happened to him?” she asked, shock warring with concern warring with amusement warring with—well, there was a lot going on, to be honest.

One of the guards shook his head as he bowed under the considerable weight of Heliodor’s finest knight. “Sir Albite sent him back, Your Highness. Said he, er—got a bit carried away at the tavern.”

The idea of Hendrik’s getting ‘carried away’ in _any_ respect was so preposterous that Jade could only stare for a moment. But here was the proof of it in front of her eyes—a proof that had roused at the sound of their voices.

“Need to...prepare for morning inspection...” he slurred, lifting his head to look around the hall blearily.

“No, sir,” the other guard tried to assure him. “Morning inspection isn’t until—well, morning.”

“But...but I see the light of dawn _there_,” Hendrik insisted. He attempted to gesture at the chandelier with one gloved hand and nearly knocked the guard’s helmet off.

“Those are candles, Hendrik,” Jade told him, her enjoyment of the situation rising dramatically with each passing moment. His health didn’t seem in any imminent danger from what she could see; what he seemed instead was three sheets to the wind—possibly even as much as six—and her mind boggled at the amount of alcohol it must have taken to get him to this point.

“P-Princess...?” Hendrik cast about for her and blinked slowly when his eyes caught hers. Then he shook his head. “No...for the princess of Heliodor to see me in...in such a state would be...no, it must not be true...it _cannot _be...”

The guards exchanged uncertain glances and Jade smiled. “I’m sure you’re right,” she agreed. “But for now, allow this figment of your imagination to help get you off to bed, at least.”

She escorted the labouring guards to the downstairs hallway and propped open the door for them. Hendrik was little to no use in the endeavour, excepting that he managed _not_ to keel entirely over when he tripped over his own two feet by one of the Great Hall columns. With an arduous effort—and a bit of apologetic swearing on the part of the guards—they righted him again and continued on their way.

Jade grabbed the door handle to his quarters and pushed it open. The room was dim and cool inside, only a banked fire and a single lighted candle welcoming her in. She turned to the guards as they reached the doorway.

“I’ll take it from here,” she told them. “You should return to your posts.”

The guards looked at each other again, much more alarmed than uneasy this time. “Are you certain, Princess Jade? He really is quite...heavy, you know.”

“Of course,” she said with determination. “I’ve taken down a Vicious Gigantes all by myself—I think I can handle one exceptionally drunk knight.”

After another pause—and she really _was_ going to start getting cross soon if people kept insisting on doing everything for her—the guards relinquished their custody of Hendrik, leaving him leaned up against the doorway to his chambers before quietly going back to the Great Hall.

As Jade approached Hendrik and grabbed one substantial arm, he lifted his head to glance at his surroundings. “My quarters,” he said with a note of wonder in his voice. “I was not aware that...visions could master such spells as Zoom...”

“I’m just full of surprises,” she grunted, securely fastening herself under his arm and heaving him forward. She realized her folly almost immediately, as the sheer _colossal _weight of him almost brought her to her knees. If he hadn’t been tapping into reserves unknown to support some of his own bulk, they would surely have crashed to the floor. Instead, the princess and the knight stumbled forward in a lurching shuffle, her desperately attempting to direct him toward the bed before his legs gave out and brought her right down with him.

Gasping and straining, Jade had mentally exhausted her extensive collection of curse words by the time they got to the large, plainly-made bed in the middle of the room. With one last grunt of effort, she manhandled him forward and he fell heavily to the mattress, slumping into a half-sitting position on the edge of it. Well, good enough for her purposes; his maid would have conniptions if he got his dirty boots on the sheets, anyway.

To that end, she knelt down in front of him and started tugging at his footwear. Hendrik had fallen into a doze, his hands resting limply at his sides. Jade struggled with his right boot—really, why did everyday actions seem _ten times _more difficult when someone was drunk—until it finally popped off and she fell to the floor with an ‘oof’.

Hendrik roused, gloved hand immediately clawing at his sword hilt. “What manner of beast attacks us?!”

“No beast, Hendrik,” she said with a tired smile. “The monsters are all gone, remember?”

“True,” he mumbled, settling again. “Unless that is...merely what they _wish_ us to believe...”

She turned to his other boot and started undoing the straps. “I think the only wild creatures left are those found visiting the puff-puff parlours, as I’m sure _you_ all learned a lot about tonight.” 

Even as she joked, she felt a pang deep in her chest. It was a perfectly harmless pastime, of course, and from what she’d heard a common tradition for the almost-married. And hadn’t _she_ been the one to insist that Hendrik get out and try to relax a little? What right had she to feel...to feel...well, _any_ sort of way about it?

“Certainly not!” came his vehement response. Jade looked up, surprised. He was staring down at her with eyes almost gone lucid, his mouth pressed thinly. “I will not have any princess of mine...vision though she may be...believing me to frequent such—such _unseemly _places...”

Jade couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face as she turned back to his boot. “It’s reassuring to know that Sir Hendrik’s legendary integrity remains intact even when speaking to apparitions.”

“The true worth of a man can only be tested when...when...” He lapsed into a doze again. She pulled off his left boot with much less difficulty and then rose, eyeing him to determine what else needed to be done. Just the scabbard, she decided; the rest he could take care of himself if he awoke during the night.

Her fingers had merely brushed over the pommel of his sword when he jerked up violently, a soldier’s instincts rallying at this attempt to disarm him. He grabbed for her with an iron-like grip and she let out a sharp cry as she tried wrench herself away, throwing him off-balance and sending them both crashing down to the mattress.

Jade froze as she found herself sprawled on top of the very essence of inebriated knighthood. Her hands were curled defensively into his shirt, her face inches from his as he stared at her through hooded eyes. She could feel his heart racing beneath her fingertips, its pace rivalling only her own within her breast.

Hendrik’s throat bobbed in a swallow. “You are..._unspeakably_ lovely,” he rasped.

“Oh,” she said breathlessly. “I...I’m not entirely sure that was a compliment?”

His expression grew pained and his lips curved downward. “Yes—that is, no—that is, I would not presume to...I could not...”

It wasn’t that Hendrik _never _complimented her, exactly. He always told her how well she looked when she dressed up for a formal dinner, or commented on the precision of her forms when training, if that counted (which for him, probably did).

But it was never like _this_, in the darkness of night, just the two of them, her pressed up against him as he looked deeply into her eyes. Her heart felt like it was threatening to escape her chest altogether and she found herself unable to tear her gaze from his.

Jade didn’t know what she might have done next, if he hadn’t spoken further in a hushed voice. “You...you truly fill me with the deepest terror, Princess Jade...”

She felt rather like a bucket of cold water had been tossed over her. “What do you mean, Hendrik?” she asked, her stomach twisting into a confused knot.

He shook his head and closed his eyes. “Forgive me, Princess...that is not...even for a vision to know...” Within seconds, his breathing slowed into steadiness and she realized he’d fallen asleep.

A breathy sigh went out of her and she reluctantly pulled herself off his warmth. She knelt on the bed and considered him for a moment before bending down and shoving him over onto his side, just in case he was sick in the night. A tentative tug at his scabbard resulted in his only stirring that time; he tried to lift his head but she gently pushed it back down.

“Sleep now, Hendrik,” Jade said softly. She smiled slightly and tucked his hair behind his ears. “I was planning on training for an hour or two before breakfast tomorrow. If you remember all this in the morning and feel the urge to fall to your knees apologizing, you can find me in the courtyard.”

He let out a grunt before lapsing into silence once more. Jade placed his sword within arm’s reach and slipped off the bed, making her way through the dark room and closing the door behind her.

She paused then, leaning up against the door pensively. Sir Hendrik, Hero of Heliodor, afraid of her? It defied all reason or sense that she could see. And what could possibly have possessed him to get so blind drunk that night? Was he struggling with some situation or concern that she was unaware of?

After a moment, Jade shook her head and straightened. There would be no answers there for her that night, and now that he was safely in bed it was well time she sought her own.

As it turned out, Hendrik _did _come to her in the courtyard the next day with all the horrified remorse she’d expected. After a judicious amount of teasing, she eventually managed to coax him into a sparring match, where he was so distracted by his appalling behaviour that he _almost _didn’t win.


	9. Before: Hotto | After: Puerto Valor

╔══════════════╗  
**Before: Hotto**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


Jade loved her friends—truly, she did—but sometimes she felt that if she didn’t get a moment to herself, she was going to start Vacuum Smashing people.

“Ooh, the famous Hotto bathhouses!” Sylvando looked up at the sign and clasped his hands to his cheek. “I don’t know about _you_ darlings, but I could _sorely_ use some steamy downtime.”

Rab nodded, his bushy mustache twitching. “I wouldnae turn down a jaunt in the sauna myself. We’ve well earned it after all our troubles, I reckon.”

“Is that wise?” Hendrik objected in a completely predictable fashion. He clanked a bit as he gestured, still wearing the armour he’d donned for the fight with the dragon. “Now that we have gained access to the Crucible, would it not be best to continue on to forging the Sword of Light, that we might end the peril threatening this world once and for all?”

Beside him, Erik spread his hands and shook his head. “Haven’t you realized by now how hard it is to drag these two away from anything resembling a break?”

“Well, I for one think it’s a wonderful idea,” Serena said staunchly. “Miko worked so hard for this town, and I think she’d like that we could enjoy ourselves here for at least a little while.”

Suitably chastened, Hendrik allowed himself to be dragged up the stairs by an excited Sylvando while the rest followed. Jade started to join them, but then hesitated.

“Jade? Aren’t you coming?” Serena asked, pausing at the doorway.

The princess made up her mind in a split second. “No, not this time,” she smiled. “All that steam rather gives me a headache. But you go on—I’ll see you later.”

“Och, yer loss, lass,” Rab shrugged. “Ye’d think ye were still waterlogged from our _last_ visit here..."

“You mean the one where I had to drag you out after _seven hours?_” she demanded. “Try to keep better track this time. I’m still just as willing to barge into the men’s section as I was then, you know.”

Jade heard Hendrik’s scandalized voice from inside. “Wait—is there truly no barrier preventing such an occurrence?!” Sylvando immediately leapt on this opportunity to needle his friend and Erik’s heavy sigh floated out through the curtained entrance.

It seemed an excellent time to take her leave, and with one last wave Jade did exactly that. She loved her friends, but after so many months in close quarters with them, the ceaseless banter _did _start to grate on her.

The noontime sky was overcast as she walked back through the town, though that was nothing new these days. The spirits of the people were also about as well as could be expected after the loss of their beloved priestess. They were busy at their work, however, trying to bolster themselves as best they were able, and Jade marvelled once again at the unyielding will of Erdrea to push onward with head held high. It was a humbling sort of thing to observe, no matter how many places she’d seen the proof of it.

After wandering for a time, she found herself at the forge. The smiths there were as productive as always, hammers ringing like bells on their steel and iron creations. One of them paused in her work to wipe the sweat off her face and noticed Jade watching.

“Ah! A visitor.  
Fighting demands fine weapons.  
Would you care to try?”

She picked out a spear from a weapon rack and offered it to Jade. The princess smiled as she took it and positioned herself in front of a nearby training dummy. She made several experimental thrusts and jabs, followed by a whirling strike that rocked the dummy on its pedestal.

“The balance on this one is a bit off,” she told the smith. “Have you anything with a longer pole?”

Jade spent some time at the forge, testing out various weapons and suggesting modifications to the smith. The exertion combined with the heat of the fires soon had her drenched in sweat, and she realized the irony of having refused an afternoon at the bathhouse only to find herself needing it more than ever.

Eventually she narrowed down her favourite pieces and had them set aside, promising that she’d return later with the party’s coin purse. Then she made her way down to the inn with the hopes that they’d have at least _some_ bathing facilities rather than her having to trek all the way back up the steep stairs.

Thankfully, this inquiry was met with a smiling positive. The innkeeper promised to send up a tub of hot water and then eyed Jade’s sweat-drenched clothing.

“Your garb can be washed.  
Fresh as the spring mountain air,  
We will return them.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you,” Jade accepted gratefully. It was probably long overdue, anyway; she couldn’t remember when they’d last stopped by a stream to scrub their clothing before hanging it on a line for Serena to Woosh dry.

When she entered the room she shared with the young woman, she noted that Serena must have spoken to the innkeeper earlier, as her spare dress was already folded neatly on the bench. Jade dug out her own extra clothing to add to her laundry just in time for the knock at the door announcing her tub.

Oh, it was _heavenly_ to sink into the steaming hot water. The pools at the bathhouse were larger, of course, but there was something so luxurious about bathing in a private bedchamber all by herself. She only dimly remembered her baths at Heliodor Castle when she was younger; the smell of exotic scents, the giggles of delight as she popped wandering bubbles with her fingers.

Far more prominent in her mind were the noisy public affairs that she’d grown accustomed to all those years on the road, with leaky tubs and drafty rooms. That wouldn’t do at all for when Heliodor was rebuilt, she decided, and she dreamily spent some time thinking up plans for spas and heated pools open to all. Jade lingered until the water began to grow tepid and finally stepped out, wrapping herself in a fluffy towel. 

She realized her mistake almost immediately: she’d given both her regular outfit _and_ her spare to the innkeeper to wash, leaving her with nothing to change into. A brief consideration of Serena’s dress was discarded; though they weren’t too different in size, there was one very _large_ area of dissimilarity that nixed the idea.

Jade pulled the door open a crack and peeked out. The hallway was deserted and the lobby below silent. The innkeeper was probably washing her clothing that very minute. She only really needed something to wear for the interim, and one of Sylvando’s light tunics sprang to mind. With a furtive look around, she crept into the hall with her towel clutched tightly around her and slipped into the room next door.

As luck would have it, he’d apparently taken advantage of the same service—really, was she the only one to have missed out earlier?—and a stack of shirts lay on the bench by his bed. Jade had just picked up the least garish-looking one when she caught a flash of blue out of the corner of her eye.

If the axe propped up against the wall, the military chronicle open on the bedside table, and the enormous leather gloves beside it didn’t proclaim the other bed as belonging to Hendrik, then certainly the folded yellow turtleneck and long blue tabard on the edge of it did. She wondered for one wild moment how many of those awful shirts he even _owned_ before she remembered that he’d worn his armour for the battle instead, and must have requested his clothing laundered in the meantime. She absently toyed with one of the pom-poms on Sylvando’s spare shirt as she stared over at the other knight’s bed.

It was a ridiculous idea. The fact that it would be closer to a tent than clothing on her was somehow the _least _of the problems with the whole notion, and any sensible course forward surely involved the shirt she already held in her hands. Sylvando wouldn’t mind, after all, and she could wear it until her own clothes were ready with no inconvenience to anybody.

But then, Jade conceded as she dropped the towel and started to pull Hendrik’s blue tabard over her head, she’d never been known for taking the side of prudence over impulse, had she?

She was immediately struck by how soft it was. In this respect she had no idea if that was only due to the recent laundering, as she generally spent very little time standing around petting Hendrik’s clothing. It might well be time to _start_ if this is what awaited her though, a shiver going through her as the fabric slipped over her skin. As she’d expected, the tabard billowed absurdly, and she had to bunch the collar up to keep the wide neck from exposing her chest entirely. The slits in the side ran all the way up to her thighs and the ends dragged along the floor. It was the least practical garment she could _ever_ have chosen to wear, but she found herself not caring in the slightest.

Jade sat down on the bed, brushing her fingers over the blue cloth with a lingering touch. She hesitated a moment before grabbing a fistful and bringing it to her nose. Her sense of self-consciousness seemed very far away as she breathed deeply in; it smelled mostly of soap, but she also caught a whiff of something else there, of leather and aftershave and sweat. She let the fabric graze along her cheek and another shiver went down her spine.

A...thought occurred to her. Or more accurately speaking an _urge_, and it was so dreadfully audacious that a flush spread across her skin as much from shame as excitement. She shifted on the bed and felt the tabard brush up against her breasts in a way that made her hips squirm, which was _not_ at all helping her coherence of mind. Her fingers drifted down to her thigh, flicking tentatively at the edge of the fabric. She took a deep breath and—

The door suddenly opened, and the owner of the tabard himself entered the room.

Their gazes instantly locked onto each other. Hendrik blinked once in surprise to see her, and again as he began to take in a broader perspective of the scene before him. Then his eyes slowly widened as they travelled down the length of her tabarded form, and he soon seemed in some danger of never blinking again.

“P...P...P...” Hendrik’s mouth gaped open and closed, tongue apparently not cooperating with the signals—if any—being sent from his brain. She watched with a breathless interest as his bare hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles bloomed a brilliant white. “P...Prin...”

At that moment, the bunching at her collar gave out and one side of the tabard slipped down her shoulder, revealing the upper swell of her breast. She saw Hendrik’s eyes snap down and he performed the remarkable feat of keeling entirely over without budging a single inch.

Jade tugged the tabard back up and cleared her throat. “I...suppose I owe you an explanation,” she started, mouth suddenly gone dry.

“No!” The sound that came from his throat was unlike anything she’d ever heard from him before. “No, it is not necessary to—I must—”

Hendrik all at once seemed to regain enough of his faculties to reassert command over his own body. He spun in place and wrenched the door open, practically tumbling out of the room in his haste to leave. It slammed shut behind him and she was left alone again.

Well. That was not _precisely_ how she’d expected the afternoon to go. Jade absently tugged at the neck of the tabard again, fingers brushing over her racing pulse. As she replayed the scene in her head, she realized with some wonder that it was apparently possible to fluster Hendrik so badly that he couldn’t even manage to _blush_. It was a fascinating bit of information; perhaps one that prompted further study.

“Hendrik honey? Is something the matter?” she heard from down the hallway. The door opened and Sylvando popped his head in. He glanced around the room before spotting Jade, and his eyebrows shot up high on his head as he took in her appearance. Quite beyond embarrassment by that point, she gave him a helpless shrug.

“Oh dear,” he said with a sigh. “_This_ is going to take some time to clear up. Don’t worry, darling, I’ll deal with it.”

He made as if to close the door and then paused. “But just so you know—you look absolutely _fabulous_.”

“Thank you, Sylvando,” she smiled. With a wink, the other man left.

Jade looked down at the tabard reluctantly. It was probably about time to remove it and change into Sylvando’s more modest garb while she waited for her clothes to dry. Her hand brushed over the fabric once more, revelling in the wonderful softness.

On the other hand, she thought as she pulled it back over her head, perhaps Hendrik would be so traumatized by all this that he’d simply _give_ it to her rather than ever face wearing it again. It wasn’t the worst way in the world to gain a new sleeping shirt; if Sylvando managed to keep him from throwing himself off a cliff for long enough, she’d be sure to ask.  
  


╔══════════════╗  
**After: Puerto Valor**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


If there existed such a place as hell, then Sir Hendrik of Heliodor was certainly, emphatically, and unequivocally in it.

“Don’t be such a prude, honey,” Sylvando chided him from his nearby lounge chair. The man sat cross-legged upon it, a voluminous hat perched atop his head and a drink in his hand. “What _else_ is she supposed to wear to the beach, hm?”

“Something more befitting of a princess of Heliodor,” Hendrik gritted out from his own seat, arms crossed so tightly he was in some danger of cutting off his own circulation. 

The other man grinned and gave his drink a stir—a peculiar concoction with a miniature parasol sticking out of it. “Oh, I’d _definitely_ lead with that one, darling. Do you want your remains sent back to Heliodor after she’s through with you?”

Hendrik threw Sylvando a glare and then returned to staring daggers at any persons, real or imagined, who dared cast their gaze within a ninety-degree radius of Princess Jade. The princess herself, he refused to look at.

...he strictly and sternly _resolved _not to look at.

...he, with an iron will borne from years of harsh training, made a heroic _attempt_ not to look at.

...he completely and utterly failed to keep from _gawking_ at every time a flash of bright pink fabric caught his eye, which had for the past half-hour been occurring at a rate of approximately seven times per minute.

Make no mistake: the idyllic-looking beach with its blue waters and sunny skies and pleasantly warm temperatures may have _looked_ like paradise, but it was in reality a raging inferno of despair with one helpless knight caught at its epicenter.

Hendrik had not known of the trials that awaited him when he had informed Princess Jade of his intended visit and she had promptly invited herself along. At the time, he had only been glad of her company on the long journey. Knowing the princess’s fondness for teasing, he had resigned himself to a certain amount of mockery with respect to his continuing fear of the insects in the Manglegrove, but otherwise had seen no cause for concern. Their reunion with Sylvando had been spirited, Hendrik’s business with Don Rodrigo had concluded satisfyingly, and they had even found themselves with an extra day in which to enjoy all the sights Puerto Valor had to offer.

What he had _not_ anticipated, was one of those sights taking the form of a princess joining them after breakfast wearing such a bathing costume as threatened to condemn Hendrik’s very _soul_.

The situation had not notably improved after their arrival at the beach. The princess had immediately deposited her gear on a lounge chair and taken to the water, heedless of the crowd of people beginning to fill the sandy shores. Despite Hendrik’s most strenuous efforts, he found his eyes drifting helplessly back over to her again and again. They followed the long line of her legs up to the loose shorts she wore; the curve of her waist and hips; the firmness of her exposed stomach; the swell of her ample breasts within their skimpy enclosure. She splashed and swam and laughed and joined in impromptu athletics competitions, and all the while her knight alternately glowered and goggled.

He was startled from his frazzled thoughts by the sight of the princess jogging up to them. Droplets of water cascaded down her body, her slender limbs slick and shining in the sun; Hendrik immediately sent a prayer of thanks to Yggdrasil that his own borrowed bathing trunks were of a dark and relaxed enough construction as to conceal any grievously inappropriate reactions.

“Aren’t you two going to come out?” Princess Jade asked. “The water’s wonderful.” She grabbed her own glass and took a long drink from it. Hendrik’s eyes lingered on the smoothness of her throat as it bobbed into a swallow, and cursed his fortunes anew.

“I’m not much for getting wet lately,” Sylvando declined with a shake of his head. “I think I had one too many stormy days on the Stallion during our journey!”

The princess looked to Hendrik, an eyebrow raised. 

“No, thank you,” he grunted, crossing his arms more firmly. His vantage point from the lounging area offered too much strategic advantage to cede; if his princess insisted on staying here for the better part of the day, he must needs remain vigilant.

She frowned and turned to Sylvando. “What’s the matter with him?”

“All this sunshine seems to be making dear Hendrik here even more of a grumpy-poo than usual,” Sylvando answered with a smirk. “I _told_ you to bring a hat, honey!”

“Well, that’s easily fixed,” the princess said before Hendrik could reply. “Here—”

She grabbed the hat from atop Sylvando’s head and turned back to Hendrik. As she leaned over, her chest thrust out perilously close to the knight, and he jerked backward in his desperation to avoid her. “_P-Princess—_”

“There we are,” she said with an impish smile as she deposited the hat upon his head. “It looks delightful.” Then with a wave she was gone again, leaving behind one grinning knight and another struggling to catch his breath.

After a moment, Hendrik tore off the hat with a grimace and tossed it back to Sylvando. The other man caught it and returned it to his own head with a flourish. “I know _you_ aren’t a fan, darling, but I honestly think she looks _fabulous_ in that swimsuit.”

“Your opinion on the matter is wholly unsought,” his friend growled. He turned back to the beach and cast about for Princess Jade, unable to account for her for a disquieting few seconds. Then he spotted her: once again by the shore, speaking to a _particularly_ interested group of young men.

Hendrik was on his feet in a flash, fists clenching and unclenching as he agonized over his potential courses of action. Even less than commentary on her wardrobe, the princess did _not_ appreciate any display of protectiveness on his part; and, indeed, Hendrik was well assured of her ability to deal with the men herself, if she found their conduct distasteful.

But still he could not stand idly by, should she require some form of reinforcement. It was a soldier’s duty to position himself where he might best be deployed if needed—or so Hendrik told himself as he began to make his way down the beach, ignoring Sylvando’s query behind him.

He was within two dozen feet of the princess when all of a sudden he was confronted by a trio of ladies blocking his path.

“Excuse me,” said the tallest of them in a breathy voice, “are you Sir Hendrik of Heliodor?”

“I am,” he said distractedly, trying to keep Princess Jade in line of sight despite the continuous stream of people passing along the beach.

The other two women giggled and tossed their hair in a peculiar fashion that he did not understand the purpose of.

“Oh, how amazing!” the first woman said. She leaned forward and Hendrik glanced down at her abundant cleavage before looking up again. He briefly wondered if her companions had noticed her bathing suit’s unreliable condition, and if so, why they had not informed her of it.

“I’ve always wanted to meet one of the heroes who saved the world,” she continued in that same husky tone. Her hand reached out to lay upon his arm, and Hendrik felt a flash of irritation. He had lost sight of the princess due to this discommodious interruption and wished nothing more than to be rid of them.

“One of my companions rests before the retaining wall,” he said shortly, shaking off her hand and gesturing behind himself. “I am certain he would be delighted to meet you.” Then without sparing a further glance, he stepped around the women and continued onward.

Hendrik searched for some minutes for his princess, casting his eyes this way and that along the beach. The group of young men she appeared to have evaded on her own, as there was no sign of her among them. He scanned the crowd and attempted to reassure himself that there could be but little peril for so capable a woman as she; the only possibility that remained was that the princess was exactly where—and with exactly _whom_—she wished. This was not a conclusion that quelled the disquiet in his heart, but one he forced himself to be reconciled to.

He had just started up the beach again, wondering if the women had indeed found Sylvando, when a cry reached his ears: sharp, surprised, in some pain. And most importantly of all, from a voice that he knew near better than anyone else’s in the world; that he unconsciously held his breath to listen to.

His feet were tearing into the sand the very next instant as he raced toward the source. A moment later, he saw a small collection of passersby surrounding a figure who sat in the shallows, clutching her leg protectively. Princess Jade looked up at him as he splashed into the water and fell to his knees before her. Her face was pale and her teeth clenched tightly together.

“What has happened?” he asked in a choked gasp, his heart thudding in his chest. “Where is your injury?”

“A jellyfish got me,” she said with a pained hiss. “I didn’t see it until it was too late.”

He raised his hands and began to pull the magic into himself, desperate to do _anything_ to erase the hurt from her face. Just before he unleashed his spell, a voice stopped him: “Wait, Hendrik!”

Sylvando was by his side the next instant. “Don’t you remember our childhood, darling?” he said sharply. “Healing only makes it worse!”

_A frightened boy, wailing with fear as the stinging pain shuddered through him. His arm around his dark-haired companion, who murmured soothingly to him while they limped toward the safety of the villa far beyond._

Hendrik’s hands faltered and then fell, the hum of the aborted spell dissipating into the air. A tide of chagrin crashed over him with the realization of what he had almost done to his princess.

She grunted and glanced over at Sylvando. “What can be done about it, then? Goodness, what a wretched feeling!”

The knight pointed toward the villa resting high upon the cliff. “Servantes keeps an antidote on hand if we can get you back up there somehow.”

There was truly nothing simpler. With all the determination of a plan now decided, Hendrik bent down and scooped the princess up in his arms as if she were no heavier than a piece of driftwood. She gasped in surprise and he felt her wet hands slip over his chest as she tried to find purchase before finally settling around his shoulders. He sloshed back through the shallows and onto the sand once more, ignoring the looks of curious bystanders as he went. Princess Jade seemed equally oblivious, settling her head onto his chest and wincing with a sharp intake of breath every time her leg jostled.

With Sylvando leading the way, they hurried through the town and back to the villa. Hendrik brought the princess to her guest chamber and carefully laid her on a settee while Sylvando ran to summon Servantes.

“Is there anything I can fetch you, Your Highness?” Hendrik asked anxiously.

“Some hindsight, perhaps,” she said with a strained smile. “I’m going to be feeling fairly foolish about this one for a while.”

Servantes appeared then with the antidote and Hendrik hovered over him as he worked, likely not at all of assistance but entirely unable to help himself. When the pain eased and the princess’s face began to clear, it was almost as if he himself felt the relief of it.

“She should rest for veinte minutos, Don Hendrik,” Servantes told him at the door afterward. “Watch over her, por favor, and summon me if there are any complicaciones.”

“I’ll go tell Papi what happened,” Sylvando added, also taking his leave. He shook his head with a small smile. “I think I’ll get as far as ‘jellyfish’ before he’ll demand to know what you’ve done _this_ time, Hendrik. Oh, Papi never forgets...”

Hendrik nodded briefly and shut the door behind the man. He looked about the room before retrieving a chair and placing it next to where the princess sat. It was a lady’s chambers and the seat more than a little precarious, but he clung to it doggedly, refusing to be any farther from her than this.

“How fare you now, Princess?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“Not _that_ poorly off,” she answered normally, her eyes rolling slightly. “That ointment is a miracle.”

“I seem to recall such,” Hendrik agreed.

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime.” She tilted her head at him then, and her gaze softened. “Thank you for the help, Hendrik.”

He swallowed hard, feeling quite unequal to her gratitude. “You are the princess of Heliodor,” he said hoarsely. “It is no less than my sworn duty.”

Her brows pushed together for a moment but then she smiled again. “Well, in that case, do you think you could duty up a blanket for me? I’m feeling a bit chilled all of a sudden.”

Hendrik looked closely at her to see her skin gone clammy and her lips tinged blue. He leapt to his feet and turned to the bed, intending on stripping it before she interrupted him.

“No, don’t make extra work for the maids—just get something from the linen closet in the hallway.”

He nodded distractedly and dashed out to the hall before realizing he had not a single clue where the linen closet _was_. Door after door failed to produce any such fabled location, and he felt the urgency of his task looming over him. Finally, Hendrik yanked open the door to his own chambers and grabbed the first suitable material he could find from his pack before rushing back to her room.

Princess Jade’s brows rose as she beheld his proffered covering. “That’s an...interesting choice of blanket.”

Hendrik blinked in confusion and glanced down at his bundle. He felt a jolt of embarrassment and coughed. “Ah...admittedly so, Your Highness. But I can well vouch for its warmth, unless you wish me to seek another—”

“No, it’s fine.” She held out her hands and he gave it to her. A minute later she had wrapped herself in his cape, the crest of Heliodor undulating atop the sturdy black cloth as she shifted.

“You’re right—this is _much_ warmer than I expected,” she murmured, snuggling deeper into it. “I sort of assumed it was just as uncomfortable as all the rest of your battle wear.”

“No, the, er...” Hendrik felt his mouth go strangely dry as he watched the princess trail curious fingers over the front of the cape, tracing the embroidered thread of the two-headed eagle. “The decorative purpose is clear, of course, but the...the functionality remains equally important.”

“Eminently practical. I quite approve.” A healthy flush had returned to her cheeks and she settled herself into a lounging position. Part of the cape slipped off her shoulder as she moved and exposed the crimson fabric underneath, an exquisite contrast to her pale skin.

If he had not known the better, she would look almost as though...almost as though she wore nothing at all underneath it.

Hendrik grasped for his speech capabilities and found them entirely vanished. He had thought her swimming garb to be the most shockingly scandalous outfit he would bear the misfortune to witness that day, but he had been wrong. The sight of Princess Jade with his cape draped upon her, red and black cloth sliding against her bare skin, was such that set his heart to pounding and his breath short in his chest. He felt a mortifying response from his body, which was in no respect helped when she looked up at him and her lips curved into an arch little smile.

“Careful, Hendrik,” she said in a low voice. “I might just decide to keep this for myself. That’s a princess’s privilege, isn’t it?”

“That...that is...”

He stood at once, his chair teetering on two legs behind him. “I must...speak to Servantes about an urgent matter,” Hendrik stammered. “I shall send for Sylvando to sit with you.” With a hasty bow to his princess, he fled the room.

Outside, he paused a moment to lean against the wall, face pressed into one fist and eyes squeezed shut.

His cape, of all things. If Hendrik were not exceedingly cautious going forward, his princess would be the very _death_ of him.


	10. Before: The Last Bastion | After: Heliodor

╔══════════════╗  
**Before: The Last Bastion**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


“My truest friend,” Hendrik murmured, a lump caught in his throat. “The journey without you has been arduous, and I long for the day when we are together again at last.”

Obsidian nickered softly and thrust his head over his master’s shoulder. Hendrik stroked the horse’s neck and closed his eyes, the wound from their separation opened anew at this all too brief reunion.

There was a sound nearby and Hendrik looked over to see the Luminary, a smile on his face at the scene. The young man waved a hand and then continued on down the slope, his mother and friends already rushing out to welcome him.

With one last pat—and an earnest promise to return when his business through—Hendrik left his horse and followed the Luminary’s path into town. The Last Bastion had changed but little since their departure those long months ago; the fortifications had been kept in fine condition, he noted, but the people had made few efforts toward reconstruction as yet. It was as if the world held its breath, waiting for true hope to look to the future again.

Hendrik was met by a flurry of salutes as he walked along the cobbled roads. The men and women who comprised the remains of the Heliodorian army seemed in good spirits, and more than equal to their tasks. He was stopped by this officer and that and given brief updates on all manner of concerns, which he requested in writing for his return. His main goal, however, was the tent in the centre of town, where the king had been informed of his arrival and now awaited him. He climbed the wooden steps and nodded to the guard outside before pulling back the flap and entering.

“My liege,” Hendrik said, immediately bending a respectful knee with his fist to his chest.

“Hendrik,” King Carnelian greeted him. The knight looked up to see a pleased smile behind the king’s substantial beard. It was a sight he was yet unaccustomed to after those long years of Mordegon’s vile possession; Hendrik could only be grateful that his lord’s recovery had continued unimpeded in the time he had been away.

“It has been some time since your last dispatch,” the king continued. “I am relieved to see you well.”

“Exceedingly so, sire. Forgive me for the lapse in my correspondence.” Hendrik rose and pulled his scabbard off his belt, placing it to one side of the tent out of deference to the king.

Carnelian nodded his chin at it. “And has the Shield of Heliodor served you well?”

“I wield it with only the greatest of honour,” Hendrik declared, secretly vowing that the king never discover the truth of its quickly having been outclassed by the Luminary’s creations at the forge. There were many occasions that symbol surpassed utility, but on the battlefield was not one of them.

“Very well, very well.” Carnelian’s mustache curved downward. “And...do you come alone today, Hendrik?”

Hendrik paused briefly. “No, sire—I am accompanied by the Luminary. He will surely pay his respects after he has properly greeted his family. The rest of our companions remained behind, to make preparations for battle.”

“I see.”

Sensing the king’s disappointment, Hendrik rushed on to the purpose of the visit in hopes of distracting him. “The reason I have come, Your Majesty, is to inform you of our intended course. We have gained access to Mordegon’s fortress and obtained the fabled Sword of Light. With all other obstacles now removed, our assault begins on the morrow.”

“This is most excellent news, Hendrik,” the king nodded with satisfaction. “I—and all of Erdrea—shall pray for your success.”

“Thank you, my liege.” Hendrik’s jaw tightened. “I swear to you that I will avenge Heliodor of the atrocities suffered by this fair land.”

Carnelian’s eyes went flinty and his beard bristled. “I expect nothing less from you, Sir Hendrik. And should you encounter Sir Jasper during this onslaught, inflict upon him all the chastisement that the crown demands.”

Hendrik bowed again, not able to summon a proper reply to that. The king shifted on his makeshift throne and drummed his fingers on one of the arms. 

“How fares my daughter?” he asked then, tone curiously neutral.

“Princess Jade is excellently well, sire.” Hendrik smiled slightly. “If it had been up to her, we would have waited not a second before storming the fortress gates. She is ever full of determination, and more fearless than the finest warriors I have known.”

“As only befits a princess of Heliodor,” Carnelian proclaimed with pride. “Generations of royal blood flows through her veins, and woe to anyone who dares stand between her and her design.”

“It is as you say, sire.” Hendrik hesitated a moment. “I...also wish to convey Her Highness’s respects. She bid me assure you of her hope of reunion once our task is complete.”

Carnelian grunted. “And was there some reasoning given as to why she wished to wait until that time?”

Hendrik felt strangely reluctant to speculate on the princess’s motivations, or betray any such confidence as she had imparted to him—even to _her _own father and _his _sworn king. He felt the unease of divided loyalties rising within him and cleared his throat. “I...could not say, sire.”

“Very well.” Carnelian fixed Hendrik with a penetrating look. “I place upon _you _the burden of ensuring that this reunion is given its chance to occur. Protect my daughter at all costs, Hendrik—even, if need be, at the expense of your own life.”

“I will, Your Majesty,” Hendrik vowed, fist to his chest. “While I draw breath, no harm shall ever befall her.”

He meant every word he spoke, but at the same time understood what the king did not: that Princess Jade was as likely—if not more—to save _his _life as he hers. Infinitely brave and formidable, she would always spurn any offer of protection that did not trust her to give the same in return. As a warrior—as a _person_—she was everything Hendrik had ever aspired to be, and he felt the deepest honour to have been of her company during this journey. He knew he would treasure those moments they had spent together for the rest of his life.

And if, by the grace of the Luminary, they succeeded in their goal, the fact that there would be many _more_ such moments filled his heart with such grateful joy as almost could not be fathomed.

Hendrik had intended on speaking further—to assure the king of the princess’s strength and conviction—when Carnelian replied.

“I am glad that Jade has you to rely on, Hendrik,” he said with an approving nod. “You have always been as a son to me, and it gives me the greatest relief to know that you shall be there for her well beyond my time in this world.”

“You honour me, sire,” Hendrik choked out. “I...hope only that I have earned the honour of _her _trust and confidence in turn.”

A vision of Princess Jade appeared in his mind: her achingly lovely face, the willfulness of her expression, the graceful curve of her lips, the quiet dignity of her voice—

“You humble yourself too greatly, my knight,” Carnelian smiled. “She has always looked to you as a friend—nay, even as a brother, I dare say.”

Hendrik’s thoughts stuttered to a halt.

“From her earliest childhood, the strength of your bond has always been clear,” the king continued. “I know that you would never jeopardize that for any reason. Pray, continue to watch over her—as well as, someday in the future, her heirs and successors to the throne.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Hendrik said hoarsely. His chest felt hollow and it had grown difficult to draw breath into it. “I am but a servant of the royal house of Heliodor.”

“And no finer one could I imagine.” The king waved a hand toward the door. “Now, I would ask that you summon the Luminary, so I may speak to him before I retire.”

Hendrik left the tent and walked down to the living quarters on unfeeling steps. He answered the courtesies of the Luminary’s mother with all the mechanical civility that had been trained into him from his youth, and escorted the young man up to see the king. Hendrik did not join him; he instead passed the time with an inspection of the fortifications, where the minuteness of his inquiries soon devolved from ‘thorough’ into ‘captious’. 

At last it was time to go. Hendrik stood by Obsidian with one steady hand on the horse’s neck as he watched the Luminary’s blonde companion cling to him, tears streaming down her face as she made her good-byes.

“Come back, you hear?” she sniffled, pasting on a trembling smile. “I won’t be having you do yourself a mischief up in that nasty fortress! Whatever would I tell your mum?”

The Luminary stroked her hair and nodded at her. Hendrik knew that theirs was a close relationship, with them their entire lives as they had grown up in peace and happiness together. But there was something else, perhaps, in the face of his friend; a quiet yearning that he was not certain the Luminary even saw.

After that, they took their leave. The roiling disorientation of the Zoom spell overtook them and they once again appeared at the solitary campsite where the rest of the party waited.

“Good visit?” Erik asked, gesturing with his spoon from where he sat by the fire. The Luminary smiled and went to join him, the others trailing in from their tasks to share in the conversation. For all any of them knew, this might be their last time together like this—enjoying the steadfast comfort of companionship and common purpose.

Hendrik stood somewhat apart for a time, strangely reluctant to join in the camaraderie, before finally slipping away on silent feet. He walked to the edge of the cliff they camped beside, looking out at the moon as it slowly carved its path across the heavens.

A sword, a shield, an unswerving companion. The more fool he was to ever imagine—even if only in his deepest, most secret longings—that the future might hold something more for him; that he had perchance earned absolution for his failures of pride and ignorance. He had been born for but one purpose alone: to serve, regardless of the master he followed. His king had seen to the heart of this and reminded him of his sworn charge, lest he lose sight of his oath and the duties that followed. He was a knight of Heliodor, and tomorrow he would go forth and seek vengeance for his kingdom and its people.

“Hendrik,” came a voice behind him. He closed his eyes a moment before turning.

“Princess Jade,” he replied, bowing to her. There was puzzlement on her face as he rose, and he realized the laxity of his genuflections in recent months.

“How is my father?” she asked as she joined him at the cliff.

“Well, Your Highness. I informed him of our intended course.” Hendrik paused. “He is...eager to be reunited with you.”

The princess sighed and crossed her arms at the elbow, one hand at her cheek. “I know that I should have gone with you. But I...it’s difficult, right now, to imagine how—”

“There is no need to explain yourself,” Hendrik interrupted. “I am assured of the justness of your actions, whatever their provenance.”

She turned to look up at him with a frown, but he could think of no words to answer her unspoken question. He instead found himself helplessly lost in the beauty of her star-strewn face, his heart like a stone in his chest.

Duty. Always duty. Even with the world crumbling at his feet, he would at least have that to comfort him.

“We should seek our beds, Princess,” he told her. “Tomorrow is likely to be a long and difficult day.”

Princess Jade nodded slowly, expression unreadable. “You’re probably right.”

As Hendrik turned to leave, she reached out to catch his arm and he jerked to a halt. The princess cleared her throat and he held his breath unconsciously as he waited for her to speak.

“Whatever happens tomorrow,” she said quietly, “I just wanted to say...I’m glad to have you with us. I don’t think we could have done any of it without you.”

Hendrik swallowed around the tightness in his throat. “I shall stay by your side always, Your Highness. You may depend on that.”

There was a pause of some moments. “Thank you, Hendrik.”

He stole a glance at her then, consumed by the need to see her face, to desperately search for some sign or hidden meaning he might find there; but he saw nothing apart from simple gratitude, and a resolve that would topple the most fearsome of foes in their path.

The more fool he was. Hendrik squared his shoulders and strode purposefully away, leaving his princess alone on the windswept cliffs behind him.  
  


╔══════════════╗  
**After: Heliodor**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


There were many tedious aspects of royal life, but Jade had determined very early on that dress fittings were up there with the worst of them.

“If you wouldn’t mind raising your arms higher, milady—higher—yes, that’s good,” the seamstress muttered from around the array of pins she held between her teeth. “Now stay like that for a few minutes, if you please.”

Jade wasn’t certain she _did_ please, but she obligingly held her arms up all the same. The seamstress fussed about her, dotting pins here and there until the princess rather began to feel like an overdressed hedgehog. She sighed and watched the afternoon sun creep steadily across the floor of her chambers toward the pedestal, bored nearly out of her mind.

“It’s a beautiful colour, Your Highness,” the dressmaker’s assistant said admiringly as she smoothed out the satin fabric of the skirt. “It’ll go splendidly with your complexion.”

“Thank you,” Jade replied with a slightly pained smile. Her arms were beginning to feel a bit numb; she’d have to see if her schedule allowed for a short training session before the festival, just to get the blood flowing again.

It _was_ a lovely colour, though. The deep, shimmering purple had caught her eye immediately upon entering the shop and the resulting dress had surpassed her wildest hopes. A fluttering went through her stomach at the thought of how Hendrik would react when he saw her in it. He seemed to favour her in richer hues, she’d noticed, and she eagerly wondered how far she could make his jaw drop _this _time.

“Almost done,” the seamstress grunted. She stepped back from the pedestal and looked Jade up and down with a critical eye. “Only a few more touch-ups, milady, but you can put your arms back down.”

Jade did so with relief. As the seamstress snapped her fingers at her assistant for more pins, one of the castle maids popped into the room with an armful of linens.

“Oh! You look stunning, Princess,” she exclaimed. “I don’t think a single person at the ball will be able to tear their eyes away from you all night.”

“That seems a trifle inconvenient,” Jade noted. “How will anyone be able to dance?”

The assistant snorted as she returned with the pins. “The earl and countess of Gypsum can _always_ dance, Your Highness. It’s practically absurd the number of balls that went till dawn because they refused to leave the floor.

“Although,” she continued, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial hush, “_I_ heard there was trouble afoot in their household. Something to do with Countess Gypsum and the valet.”

“No!” the maid gasped. “Who told you that?”

“One of the scullery girls in the kitchen—always been very reliable, she has. I don’t even know _what_ to think.”

Jade looked toward the window to hide her smile. She’d always felt more comfortable with the servants than the nobility, and the friendly manner in which she treated them had resulted in a dropping of both formality _and_ reserve. She’d quickly found herself privy to all sorts of interesting gossip she might not otherwise have heard, and it had become one of her most valuable sources of information about castle goings-on. And honestly, even aside from all that, it often proved _quite _entertaining.

The servants had been speaking on and Jade’s attention was suddenly caught by one of the names mentioned.

“...and the footman told me Lady Beryl was seen back in town. How many years has it been since the last time?”

“Lady Beryl?” Jade interrupted. “Who is that?”

“She’s from before your time, milady,” the seamstress told her as she fiddled with Jade’s bodice. “Her mother was a baroness back in the day and her daughter often at court before she married and went overseas.”

“But Lady Beryl’s husband died a couple years ago in an accident,” the assistant added. “People thought she might come back then, but she seemed content to stay in Sniflheim. What could have brought her here now?”

“Perhaps a renewal of old interests?” the maid asked slyly from where she was putting away the sheets.

Jade glanced curiously at her. “What do you mean?”

“It’s only rumour,” the seamstress interjected, shooting a _look _at the two servants. “There was quite a bit of talk some fifteen or so years ago that she and Sir Hendrik were on the cusp of a betrothal.”

The woman paused and prodded Jade’s sides with a frown. “Make sure to breathe properly, milady! I can’t get an accurate fitting when you stiffen up like that.”

“I’m sorry,” the princess gasped out. “You...you were saying it was just a rumour?”

A supremely unhelpful shrug accompanied the seamstress’s reply. “It’s hard to know for sure, Your Highness. They _were_ seen together a lot, but then Lady Beryl wound up engaged to a Sniflheim lord and moved away.”

“_I_ heard it was because Sir Hendrik was too focused on his career back then,” the assistant threw in. “Now that her husband has passed and the world at peace, maybe she thinks it might be time for another go at it.”

“Ooh, is there anything more romantic than old flames rekindling again?” the maid sighed with a dreamy look on her face.

As a matter of fact, Jade could think of _many_ things more romantic than that. Not that she concerned herself with romance in general; between training, horseback riding, her responsibilities as heir to the throne, social obligations, and dodging unwelcome marriage proposals, there was little time left for even the idea of love or courtship. She had enough on her plate as it was, and certainly no room at all for _others’_ potential entanglements.

Even...if one of those ‘others’ happened to be Hendrik.

“Milady! _Breathe_, remember!” the seamstress scolded her.

It wasn’t long before they finished up, the seamstress promising that the dress would be ready for the ball three days hence. Jade looked around her room dully after they were gone, her eyes eventually settling on her equipment. She considered that training session for a moment—_really_ feeling like she wanted to hit something right then—but decided against it. Perhaps it would be better to head down to the festival early instead, and surround herself with fresh air and good food and cheerful celebrations. She quickly changed back into her casual clothes and left for the city.

The annual harvest festival was even larger and more boisterous than Jade remembered from her childhood. Heliodor’s marketplace was filled with people: calling out wares from stands, participating in games, performing in the square. There was music and laughter everywhere she turned and some of the unease in her heart lifted to see the happiness of her people.

“Is it always like this?” she asked the guard who accompanied her—a sorely-argued concession to her father’s protectiveness. He had claimed rumours of potential dissension among the court, but she was certain it was only an excuse.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the guard replied. “It started with the parade this morning and will last for days, culminating in the autumn ball at the end. Of course, that part’s only for the noble folk.”

A line of costumed acrobats twirled past in front of them, followed by delighted children shrieking as they chased after the balloons and colourful ribbons left in their wake.

“I think I’d rather stay out here,” Jade murmured, thoroughly captivated by the excitement around her. 

“I think I’d agree,” the guard admitted, and she grinned.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’ll dismiss you as soon as I can and then you can join your friends and family.”

Jade paused, catching sight of someone in the crowd making his way over to them. “In fact, I think that time might be much sooner than expected.”

The guard snapped a sharp salute as Hendrik’s tall form strode over to them, people respectfully melting out of his path as he went. He wore as nondescript an outfit as he owned, for all the good that did trying to blend in when one was near seven feet tall and the most famous knight in the world. Before he could speak, Jade gestured to her escort.

“Hendrik, tell the sergeant here that he’s relieved, would you?” she asked. “I don’t think there’s any _possible_ threat that we can’t handle ourselves.”

He nodded crisply at the guard and the young man bowed gratefully to Jade before disappearing into the crowd. 

“Thanks,” she smiled. “I don’t see why anyone should have to miss out on the fun just for the sake of my father’s ridiculous worries.” Then, unable to help from needling the stern-looking man before her, she added: “Everyone knows that _you_ never let yourself have any fun, so you’re perfect for the role.”

“As you say, Your Highness,” he agreed with no trace of humour. “I must admit myself surprised—I had thought your visit to the city was intended for after supper.”

She shrugged. “I felt restless and decided to come early. Shall we?” He nodded and gestured for her to proceed.

They wandered the market together until the sun began to sink below the horizon. Rather than dulling the festivities, colourful lanterns popped up and bonfires were lit, and more people than ever seemed to throng the streets. Jade sampled delicacies and applauded daring performances and even tried her hand at a few of the games. There were cheers when she managed to ring the bell at the high striker, and she let out a huff as she let the heavy hammer drop to the ground.

“Do you want to try?” she asked her companion.

Hendrik coughed into his fist. “It would, perhaps, be best not to. The last time I attempted such a feat, there was...considerable property damage involved.”

She smiled and grabbed onto his arm as she pulled him toward another amusement. “I can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

Some braver of the crowd—especially in the face of such intimidating watchfulness as Sir Hendrik—came up to pay respects to their princess. Jade greeted them kindly, trying to put them at ease. It wasn’t her intent to be an unapproachable royal in a looming castle, forever apart from the common citizens of Heliodor. Her long years on the road had given her much more of a connection to _them _than any of the nobility, and she knew that even those humblest of her people were the very backbone of the kingdom she would someday rule.

Jade and Hendrik eventually wound up on a pile of crates beside a large open area that had been set aside for dancing. Musicians played an energetic tune and couples whirled about with movements much less stately than those found in castle ballrooms. Jade’s foot tapped along with the music as she sat there in something close to perfect happiness. The only thing that could make the evening better were if all their friends could be there with them; Sylvando would be the life of the party, of course, and the twins had probably never seen anything like this before.

She glanced up at Hendrik. He lounged against the crate with his arms crossed and his posture relaxed as he watched the proceedings. The glow of lantern and firelight danced across his face, his expression uncharacteristically contented. It became him wonderfully; Jade wasn’t sure she had ever seen him looking so...well, _handsome_ before.

It felt so foolish then to be worrying over rumour and gossip and hearsay. Wasn’t he here with her now, as he’d always been? True, it was in the capacity of ostensible guard—and she noted with some resignation how he remained vigilant even now, his eyes periodically scanning the area—but _that _was easy enough to change.

A quick jerk of her thumb at the dancers was all it took to catch his attention. “I don’t suppose...” she started.

Hendrik’s eyes widened and his hands lifted defensively. “Pray, do not compel me to dance,” he begged his princess. “The results of such an action would have irreparable social consequences.”

“Poor Sir Hendrik,” Jade teased. “Are you afraid you won’t seem nearly so fearsome if the shopkeepers and farmers see you tripping over your own two feet?”

“My reputation among the populace is a critical component of my position, Princess,” he said earnestly. “I would not have that damaged, both for the king’s sake and your own.”

She let out an exaggerated sigh and tossed her head. “Fine. But you’ll owe me _twice_ over at the ball.”

Hendrik sagged with relief beside her. Jade smiled at his ridiculous sense of propriety and turned to watch the dancers once more. Something kept bringing her eyes back to him, however; she couldn’t help but note that his hands had dropped to his sides, the one closest now within reach of her own.

A flip-flopping thrill went through her as she took a deep breath and made a decision. She moved her hand tentatively, trying to affect the most casual air she could, and had almost taken grasp of his fingers when—

“Sir Hendrik!”

Both their heads jerked up at the voice. There before them stood what was quite possibly the most beautiful woman Jade had ever seen outside of Nautica. She was tall, with long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and perfectly ruby lips. The dress she wore was rather plain, but she had such an aura of elegance about her that she would not have looked out of place in a ballroom. Jade felt positively countrified in the face of such worldly refinement.

Beside her, Hendrik inclined his head. “Lady Beryl,” he said respectfully, and Jade’s eyes then snapped over to _him_. “I had heard of your return. I am pleased to see you looking so well.”

“Still the charmer, I see.” Beryl flashed a dazzling smile and held out her hand. Hendrik politely bent over and pressed his lips to the back of it; something truly _ugly_ surged through Jade at the sight.

Beryl then glanced at the princess. “And who is this?” she asked with mild interest. “One of your new recruits?”

Hendrik straightened and gestured to Jade. “Ah—forgive my lapse,” he apologized with a guilty shake of his head. “Your Highness, this is the lady Beryl, an old acquaintance of mine. Lady Beryl, Her Royal Highness Princess Jade of Heliodor.”

The other woman turned fully to Jade then. “Oh!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. “_You’re_ little Jade? My, how you’ve grown!”

In just those few words, she made herself a mortal enemy of her princess. “It happens, I’m told,” Jade replied with a tight smile. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Oh, but I feel I practically know you already!” Beryl gushed. “Hendrik speaks so well of you in his letters, you know.”

Jade looked over at Hendrik to see him completely unperturbed, as if writing _letters_ to _Lady Beryl_ were a perfectly normal occurrence that he did not at all need to justify to his own princess. Which she supposed he _didn’t_, but that seemed very beside the point at the moment.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Jade said, her cheeks beginning to hurt from the forced cheer. “I’m told you’re back in town for a visit?” She tried to emphasize the temporary nature of the woman’s stay, as if to reinforce to the universe the rightness of that circumstance.

Beryl, it seemed, took little heed of universal biddance. “Perhaps a visit, perhaps longer,” she replied with an airy toss of her hand. She looked to Hendrik with a sweet smile and a wholly unnecessary fluttering of her eyelashes. “Hendrik, could you by any chance fetch me a drink from one of the stalls? I’m feeling parched.”

“Of course, my lady,” he said promptly, and Jade felt her teeth begin to grind in on themselves. He then turned to her. “Do you require anything, Princess?”

“No, I’m fine.”

With another nod, Hendrik left the two women alone together.

“Well.” Lady Beryl’s eyes turned assessing as she looked the princess over. “You’ve been quite busy since your return, haven’t you, Princess Jade? It must be _so_ difficult getting used to royal life again.”

“It’s not all bad,” Jade said, forming an instant dislike to the woman’s tone of...well, just the woman’s tone, really. Then, quite unable to resist the temptation, she added: “I do have _Hendrik_ here to help me, of course, and I try to focus on the responsibilities most suited to me.”

One of Beryl’s perfect eyebrows rose. “Such as?”

“I assist in training the troops now and then, and I’ve started a revitalization project in Downtown Heliodor.” Despite her discomfort with her conversational partner, Jade felt herself warming to the subject as she spoke. “The poverty and neglect in Heliodor has gone on for too long—we can’t only focus on the merchant class and nobility. I’m going to be queen of _all_ the people someday and I want them to know they can count on me, whatever their status.”

“But surely you do not visit such squalid places _yourself_,” Beryl objected. It almost amazed Jade that just when she had thought her dislike of the woman complete, she somehow sank to new depths.

“It can’t be any more terrible than the slums of Octagonia or a rain-drenched campsite,” Jade smiled. Beryl huffed in disbelief beside her and they fell into silence for a moment. Then the woman’s eyes turned back to Jade’s, her gaze penetrating.

“I’m glad to hear you have Sir Hendrik to rely on, though,” she said with a smile that stopped at her lips. “He really does think the world of you.”

Sensing a trap of some sort but not knowing its make, Jade braced herself. 

“You’ve certainly grown into quite the beauty, as any man with eyes can appreciate,” Beryl continued, gesturing at the princess. “It must be a great comfort to have someone like him around. No matter the distractions, he’s always able to look past them and remember the little girl he once knew, isn’t he? It’s a touching sort of bond, really—you needn’t ever worry about anything improper with _Hendrik_.”

Heart thumping painfully in her chest, Jade was denied—or spared—the necessity of a response by Hendrik’s returning with refreshments.

“Here, my lady,” he said to Beryl. He then looked to Jade and held up another drink. “And for you, Your Highness, in the event you change your mind.”

“How sweet,” Beryl cooed, flashing him a brilliant smile. “You’re still so solicitous to your princess, Hendrik—some things never change, do they?”

_That_ was enough. Despite the roiling of her stomach, Jade straightened to her full height and was about to marshall _some_ sort of cutting response, when Beryl placed her glass upon a crate and clapped her hands together.

“Now, I simply _must_ dance! You’ll join me for old times’ sake, won’t you, Hendrik?” she asked, those eyelashes moving more swiftly than a hummingbird’s wings.

The knight hesitated, and Jade felt all the spiteful satisfaction of his imminent refusal. She had a thought of excusing themselves and dragging him off to the jugglers instead, perhaps grabbing a bite to eat along the way—

“Of course, Lady Beryl,” he said evenly. Jade’s head jerked towards him, her stomach clenching painfully in her shock.

She watched as he held out one hand and Beryl accepted it with an exquisite gracefulness that showed itself in every movement of her neck, her feet, her hips. She led him to the square and pulled him into a more formal style of dance, the kind that had been in fashion at court some twenty years ago; more formal, and _significantly _closer than the folkish merriment of the others. Her delicate hand could easily reach Hendrik’s shoulder, something Jade struggled with even when wearing her tallest heels.

They looked...good together. Beryl was infinitely ladylike and elegant as she danced, and managed to steer Hendrik into an acceptable performance despite his clumsiness. Jade was reminded, in one wild corner of her mind, of Lady Eleanor’s grace and dignity; beautiful women who never sullied themselves with training forms and mud-caked equipment. Exactly the sort of woman a battleworn and weary knight might be drawn to.

It was Hendrik’s face that changed everything. He looked pained, to be sure, clearly fighting through the difficulties that dancing always inflicted upon him. But then Beryl said something and a flush came across him, followed by a small smile. It was _familiar_; as if this had happened before, and would happen again and again into the future.

For one of the few times in her life, Jade turned and fled. She stalked away from the scene, ignoring the cacophony of light and sound, until she reached a quiet side street with a bench resting in the shadows. She sat heavily upon it, staring out at nothing.

Was that really how he saw her? All the protectiveness he tried so hard to curb, the flashes of jealousy, the _attraction_—had she misread it all along? And even if not, was it merely something he had resolved to push past, unable to properly reconcile it with his memories of her as a child?

Was that...what had struck such fear inside him?

Jade pulled her legs up onto the bench and hugged them tight. Maybe some things _didn’t_ change. Maybe they were never meant to. And if that left _him_ with a prospect he might actually see a future with, and _her_ with an aching heart...

Well, the more fool she was. Jade buried her face in her knees as she took breath after shuddering breath, the distant merriment echoing through the dark streets around her.


	11. Before: Cobblestone | After: Heliodor

╔══════════════╗  
**Before: Cobblestone**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


Hendrik was avoiding her.

It took Jade a bit of time to realize this, as busy as everything was after their defeat of Mordegon and triumphant return to the Last Bastion. She’d at first been entirely swept up in her reunion with her father and the flood of complicated emotions that went alongside. To finally be back among her family, her _people_, would take some getting used to after so many years apart. The fortified ruins of the town—soon redubbed Cobblestone by general accord—were a far cry from the grandness of Heliodor Castle, but it was strange all the same to be bowed to and called by her title everywhere she turned. It was almost like a whole village full of Hendriks following her about, and Jade tried to look past her discomfort.

In gratitude for their service during the war, her father had proclaimed a desire to see Cobblestone rebuilt before they travelled back to Heliodor. So the soldiers laid down their weapons and picked up hammers and nails, and the restoration of Erdrea began with the sleepy little village where the Luminary of legend had grown up. Not one to sit idly by when there was work to be done, Jade set aside her spear and doffed her arm guards and leapt into it with as much enthusiasm as she’d ever had in battle—though with admittedly less skill. Sunny blue skies filled the days as they worked, the sounds of laughter and cheer amid the clamour and bustle of construction.

She also spent long hours sitting with her father reminiscing over the old days, and equally as much time scarfing down Amber’s delicious cooking as she talked with her and her ‘little soldier’ (which she resolved never to let him live down as soon as she heard the nickname; the sheepish smile that came across his face was so like Lady Eleanor’s that Jade eagerly sought the sight of it, again and again). Though the monsters still remained and the face of Erdrea had changed forever, it was a time of peace and recovery, and Jade felt all the satisfaction and hope for the future that she and her friends had so sorely earned.

Excepting, of course, for the fact that Hendrik was avoiding her—and she was beginning to feel _very_ unhappy about it.

Jade frowned to herself as she walked down the hill from Amber’s newly-thatched house one day several weeks after their return. She nodded to the people who called her name, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of one very large, very elusive knight. He hadn’t been at Amber’s _or_ with her father for breakfast, and she wondered where he could have gotten to that morning.

It was possible he’d been called away by some task or another. A seemingly endless stream of duties had awaited the illustrious general’s attention upon his return: there was equipment to take stock of, supply chains to re-establish, scouting parties to arrange, and any number of other military details that he was so uniquely trained to oversee. Hendrik had many concerns about the continuing presence of monsters throughout the region, and had made it a priority to search for any remaining survivors who might have hunkered down after Yggdrasil’s fall.

Or at least that’s what he’d told her father, who had then relayed it to her. There was no question that the Hero of Heliodor’s work was far from over, and she sometimes barely even caught sight of him outside of mealtimes.

“Princess Jade!” shouted the little girl who was in charge of the stables. Jade smiled and gave her a wave.

“When are you going to come practice horse-riding again?” the girl demanded.

“Very soon,” Jade promised. “I’ve got a few things to take care of today, but I’ll try to come by this afternoon.”

Mollified, the girl went back to her brushing of the horses. She was the only person besides Hendrik that Obsidian allowed to touch him, Jade noted with a small smile. Well, apart from herself; a vision of Dundrasil flashed briefly through her head and her frown returned. Onward she walked, past a gnarled tree with a shriveled Yggdrasil root curled around it.

She’d also wondered if Hendrik were perhaps struggling with the emotional weight of their journey’s end. Never one to wear his heart on his sleeve, she knew that he had been wounded deeply by Jasper’s betrayal of their ideals and friendship both, and might need time to reconcile his feelings. She’d tried to be respectful of his wish for privacy, and busied herself with other concerns.

But now that the days had turned into weeks with hardly more than a handful of words shared between them, Jade had had enough. He’d known her the longest of anyone in Cobblestone and they’d grown close during their quest, hadn’t they? Why should he seem to have the ability to talk to every Topaz, Dickite, and Hafnon, but not _her?_

The princess squared her shoulders. Today, she would make it her goal to track down Hendrik and not allow him to escape before they’d had at least a five-minute conversation about the weather. The rest, she felt assured, could follow from there. Jade’s chin lifted and she marched forward with new determination.

Which was naturally followed by her not walking ten steps before she almost managed to _trip _over the knight in question.

“Oh!” She stumbled to a halt on a stone bridge as a purple-haired head popped up beside her.

“Princess Jade?” Hendrik squinted at her.

“Hendrik? Whatever are you doing in the stream?” she asked, baffled.

He placed both hands on the edge of the bridge and vaulted up with ease, rising to stand beside her. He’d rolled up the sleeves of the Cobblestone clobber that Gemma had personally made for him—clothing fitting someone of Hendrik’s size being in short supply—and his boots squelched wetly. Though not anywhere _near_ as much as they should have, oddly.

“There is some issue with the water supply into town,” Hendrik said with a gesture to the nearby falls. Jade looked up to see only a trickle of water cascading down compared to the torrent it usually was. The stream itself was also much lower than normal, which explained the boots.

“Too right!” came the hearty sound of Cobblestone’s mayor, Dunstan. He strode over from where he’d been standing beside the stream. Jade realized guiltily that she hadn’t noticed him at all, as if a mere three weeks without Rab was enough for her to start completely overlooking the short men of the world.

“I expect there’s a blockage up top,” Dunstan said, pointing to the peak high above. “Used to happen every now and then, but it’s become more common since all that fuss with the World Tree. Could be monsters causing trouble, as they do.”

“What course of action do you suggest?” Hendrik asked, his brow furrowing as he stared up at the falls.

Dunstan shrugged and adjusted his cap. “I’d get some of these youngsters to go up and check it out, but they’re busy working on the church today. We can fetch our water from one of the other creeks in the meantime, I suppose.”

“Surely such an inconvenience to the townspeople is insupportable,” Hendrik objected with all the endearingly absurd solicitude of a knight. “If you wish, I myself shall investigate the cause and determine some solution.”

“An excellent idea,” Jade cut in, seeing her chance and leaping onto it wholeheartedly. “I’ll go with you.”

His gaze snapped down to hers, brow even more impossibly constricted, but Dunstan was already speaking with enthusiasm. “Ho ho! I expect the problem to be solved by afternoon tea then, what with two of the heroes of the world tackling it!”

Hendrik was careful to wait for the man to leave earshot _before _arguing with his future queen, Jade noted sourly. “Princess, I am uncertain of the wisdom of this decision,” he began.

“What, do you think me too out of practice to deal with a Dracky nest?” she demanded, thoroughly fed up with _yet another_ excuse to avoid spending any real time with her.

Ire now inflamed, Jade put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, petty satisfaction thrumming through her when Hendrik jerked back. “If you think I have any patience left for my father’s tiresome protectiveness, you’ve got another think coming. We’re going to head up to the falls, fix whatever’s wrong, then come back in time to have a nice lunch together, and that’s _final._”

She straightened and brushed her bangs back from her face as she glowered at Hendrik. He was staring at her with wide eyes, his mouth gaping open slightly.

“I...I meant only...” He cleared his throat several times. “The source of the falls is some hundred feet above, and the path likely precipitous. I...was not certain if you would be comfortable with the heights in question.”

Jade blinked. The chagrin crept into her slowly, as if it wanted to give her plenty of time to wallow in her own disgrace. “Oh,” she said finally. “That’s...actually a very good point.”

Concern seemed to shine from Hendrik’s very pores. “Princess, I would not wish you in any way to feel—”

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” she interrupted, very rationally and sensibly refusing to back down from a decision once made. “Let’s go grab our equipment and meet at the entrance to town, all right?”

Hendrik hesitated for a long moment before nodding. Jade turned and strode off without a backward glance, not willing to give him _any_ amount of time to change his mind.

(And even if he did _later_, she would make certain to track him down and very firmly change it back.)

He was already waiting for her at the entrance when she arrived. He hadn’t bothered to change out of his previous clothing, only donning his heavy leather gloves and sword belt overtop it.

“Ready?” she asked, tightening the laces on her arm guards and shifting her spear on her back.

“Of course, Princess.”

They set off at once, seeking and finding the narrow path that led up the side of the cliff. The trip wasn’t too bad at the start, the first half winding through a more cave-like area as they climbed. They were forced into single file for most of it, Jade brushing away vines with her spear while Hendrik brought up the rear. It was almost nostalgic in a way, reminding her of the excitement of their journeys through uncharted territory, never knowing what awaited them around the next corner.

But when they traded the cavern for open air, Jade began to feel _much_ less enthusiastic. The path seemed a lot narrower without the comfort of rocky walls on both sides, and she knew that if she leaned over just a bit, she’d be able to see the town many dozens of feet below, the people looking like insects from her perspective.

She _didn’t_ lean over, of course; but she _could_ have, and that was bad enough to be getting on with.

“Are you well, Princess?” Hendrik called up to her, the worry in his voice clear.

That put some of the steel back in her spine. “No problem at all,” she lied through her teeth. Taking a deep breath, she trained her eyes forward and continued on.

Despite the discomfort she absolutely refused to admit he was right about, it was rather nice working with Hendrik on a simple task like this. They had lived with the fate of the world resting on their shoulders for so long, and now their most weighty burdens were to unblock a waterfall and rebuild a village. There was much more work to be done when they returned to Heliodor—and an entirely new life to get adjusted to, she realized with unease—but for now, she was enjoying the relief of a world narrowed down to such uncomplicated duties and pleasures.

She sneaked a glance back at Hendrik, wondering if he felt the same. His face was calm as he strode up the path behind her, that watchful vigilance so second nature she wasn’t sure he could ever turn it off. He didn’t seem much bothered by her presence and she couldn’t understand what the fuss had been about these past few weeks. They’d saved the world and come home again together; what could be the problem with that?

They reached the top of the cliff in another few minutes and Jade very quickly moved as far away from the edge as possible. The wind rustled her hair about her and she pulled it back from her eyes as she approached the large stream and peered in, Hendrik joining her a moment later.

“The source of the blockage is clear.” He pointed to a curious structure that lay in the middle of the stream, looking almost mineral in construction but not quite. Jade hefted her spear and prodded at the top of it, but it resisted her efforts.

“What should we do?” she asked him.

He frowned as he considered that. “I fear it would be difficult for us to dislodge it by force. Seeing as some little water yet flows through, perhaps there is a weakness down below.”

Jade sloshed her weapon around in the stream. “It’s too deep to reach even with my spear, I think,” she mused. “One of us will need to go in.”

She turned to him with an impish smile and saw his mouth curve downward as comprehension dawned. “I just washed my hair the other night, Hendrik,” she told him, a wealth of persuasion in her voice. “Do you have any idea how long this all takes to dry?”

“I can well imagine,” he sighed with resignation, unbuckling his sword belt and shucking off his boots. Then a flush came over his face and his eyes jerked to hers.

“The, er, weight of my upper garments would hinder my movements, Princess,” he stuttered, quickly growing red as a Bite Bulb. “Forgive me for the breach in propriety—you may wish to avert your gaze.”

Jade wished absolutely nothing of the _sort _as Hendrik grabbed the edges of his Cobblestone clobber and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion. The now-exposed muscles of his abdomen flexed with the action and his glittering pendant drew her eyes straight to his substantial chest. He even managed to give her an equally excellent view of his back when he turned away from her to yank his arms out of the sleeves. 

_My, my, my._ Jade’s gaze roamed over his body with eager fascination, making note of every little blemish and long-healed scar. Her stomach did a fluttering flip as he bent over to place the folded garment beside his gloves and his shoulder muscles rippled. He didn’t seem to have a single ounce of fat anywhere on him that she could see. There might have been a finer example of muscular manliness _somewhere_ in the world, but—

No, she decided, it simply wasn’t possible. This _had_ to be it.

Blush still doggedly clinging to his neck—and _oh_ how much easier it was to see when he was stripped to the waist—Hendrik cleared his throat and walked purposefully over to the stream. He sat down at the edge of it and glanced back at her once before pushing off and disappearing under the water with a splash.

She held her breath as she waited for him to come back up, finally letting it out in a rush when his head broke the surface again.

“There _is _a gap at the bottom, Princess,” he called over, wiping one hand up his face and through his hair. “I will attempt to dislodge it by pushing at its weakest point.”

He ducked back under and she soon saw the structure start to move jerkily in response to his blows. A crack formed at the top, followed by others, spiderwebbing across the peculiarly rocky surface.

An ominous feeling overcame her and she tightened her grip on her spear, instinctively drawing herself down into a fighting stance.

All at once the structure exploded and an entire _horde_ of monsters came flying out amidst the torrent of gushing water. Jade could see only a mass of midnight horror at first, so thick it nearly blacked out the sky. She lashed out blindly with her spear and caught one of them full-on; it let out a shrill shriek and flopped to the ground. It was a Vicious Dracky, she realized with shock. But where one posed hardly any threat, an entire swarm was another matter entirely.

“Hendrik!” Jade shouted, not sure that he could hear her if he were still under the water. She flailed wildly, trying to keep her balance in the face of the mob surrounding her. The light gradually began to come back as many of the monsters flew away to seek cavernous shelter, but a few of them were apparently _very_ affronted by the disturbal of their nest and had made it their life’s mission to punish her for it. She gritted her teeth and unleashed a Multithrust, bodies dropping all around her.

Suddenly there was the sound of a sword crunching into leathery skin and Hendrik was there, fighting his way through to her. Water cascaded down from his bare chest and arms as he whirled, his blade flashing through the air. Jade found herself momentarily frozen as she watched the shirtless pinnacle of knighthood before her, doing what he did best.

“Princess! Behind you!” His shout roused her from her reverie and she spun to slash at the Dracky attempting to claw at her neck. Her blow scored true, but she’d overextended herself in her surprise; to her horror she realized she had been pushed right to the edge of the cliff during the battle. The spear fell from her hands as she flailed helplessly, her boots skidding over the crumbling rock and finally losing purchase. She tumbled over the side and for one dreadful moment was in freefall, her scream caught in her throat.

Then a powerful hand grabbed hold of her wrist and hauled her back over the edge. She stumbled when her feet hit the ground again, lurching forward and knocking her saviour right down with her. The momentum of the fall sent them rolling for some moments before her back finally thudded onto the dirt and stilled.

Jade took in a long, shuddering breath. She opened her eyes and met Hendrik’s wide gaze staring at her. He lay half-sprawled above her, braced on his elbows, pendant dangling from his heaving chest. Droplets of water wound their way down his bare skin and dripped steadily onto her clothing.

She didn’t think about it. She didn’t _have_ to. Jade reached up to his face with trembling hands and pulled his mouth down to hers.

His lips were cool and wet against her own and his beard soft as it grazed her chin. He made a noise of surprise in the back of his throat but she ignored it, concentrating only on pressing herself as closely against him as possible. Her hands slipped down to his shoulders and she shivered at the feel of his muscles flexing beneath her fingertips.

They’d saved the world and come home again together, and the only problem that _she_ could see was that he _wasn’t kissing her back_. Jade pulled away, frowning.

Hendrik was looking at her with an expression that could accurately be described as ‘poleaxed’. He swallowed hard, his mouth working soundlessly before he managed to speak.

“P-Princess...” he choked out. “I...I fear that you are...overcome by the excitement of your near-death experience...”

Maybe that’s what he wanted to tell himself; maybe that’s what he really believed. But Jade was three weeks and a nestful of monsters past the limits of her patience, and it was well time to break this standoff.

“Don’t you dare blame it on that,” she breathed. “I want this, and so do you. I know you do. Why won’t you let yourself have it?”

His eyes clouded over with equal parts agony and longing, and her heart felt as though it might burst out of her chest. He brought one hesitant hand up to her cheek and brushed his thumb over it; her eyelashes fluttered at the coolness of his touch.

“You are my princess,” he said hoarsely. “Finally you are returned to your rightful place, and I...I cannot presume to think that you might truly...”

She gripped his wrist and pushed his hand more firmly against her cheek, nuzzling into it. “I’ve been your princess for quite some time now, Hendrik,” she told him. “It didn’t stop this from happening—for either of us. So why should we stop _ourselves?_”

He let out a ragged breath, eyes hooded as his gaze went down to her mouth. A rush went through her, more thrilling than a Lightning Thrust against a metal slime—and certainly more romantic.

“Kiss me,” she whispered. “And properly this time, or I’m going to fetch my spear.”

“I...shall endeavour not to disappoint,” he replied in a rasping voice before he ducked his head down and pressed his lips to hers.

He _didn’t _disappoint her that time, as it turned out; but just to be sure, they tried it again and again and again, the sound of the waterfall drowning out everything but the beating of their own hearts.  
  


╔══════════════╗  
**After: Heliodor**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


Princess Jade was avoiding him.

She was, of course, well within her rights to seek out only such company as she desired; but it nonetheless troubled Hendrik to observe her strange behaviour over the past two days.

During breakfast with her father, she pled an appointment with the dressmaker when Hendrik arrived for his morning report.

At the training yard, she began packing up her equipment—though seemingly in the middle of practice—as soon as he entered with his own.

In the stables, she broke off a laughing conversation with the grooms to exclaim that she was late for a luncheon with Lady Lapis, who Hendrik _knew_ was currently on holiday in Gondolia.

Hendrik was fully aware that his sense of perspicacity was not as keen as some men could boast, but even _he_ could not fail to recognize the lengths and depths to which his princess had gone in her efforts to evade him.

He sat at his desk that morning, a half-finished letter lying abandoned in front of him while he drummed his fingers on the wooden surface. He could not _think_ of any possible offence he might have caused her, though that was not in and of itself compelling evidence. Matters had in fact been pleasantly cordial between them right up until the first day of the Harvest Festival. Princess Jade had seemed to be enjoying herself quite well that evening, and a slight smile came to his face at the memory of her enthusiasm.

His lips curved downwards again. At least, she had until Lady Beryl had come to pay her respects. Hendrik had left them for mere minutes, but might the lady have inadvertently caused the princess some discomfort? He had always known her to be a very able conversationalist, but her years in Sniflheim may have affected her courtesies in ways yet unknown.

The clock chimed and Hendrik glanced up at it. On the subject of Lady Beryl, he had promised to go riding with her at half-past and would be best served making his preparations. He pushed back his chair and walked over to his wardrobe to change into more suitable attire.

As he doffed his shirt and selected a new one, he hesitated. An experimental swipe of his cheek confirmed the presence of a _most_ unkempt scattering of stubble on his skin. Hendrik looked once more to the clock; there would be time to rectify the situation, but only just.

Shaving had been a daily part of his life for well on two decades by that point. Jasper and the others had teased him mercilessly in the beginning but Hendrik had ignored them, delighted by his newfound ability to emulate some aspect of the king he admired so greatly. Now, it was a comforting ritual that he could likely perform in his sleep; he went through the familiar motions automatically, and soon found himself peering into his table mirror as he scraped at his lathered skin with a razor. 

Halfway through, he paused to clean off excess foam with the towel that lay draped across his chest. Another glance at the clock advised him to hasten, lest he arrive at his appointment late—an unconscionable act.

Truthfully, he could but little spare the time for such distractions. There had been rumours of discontentment among certain factions of the nobility in recent weeks; not an uncommon occurrence, but still something to be watchful of. The king had ordered Hendrik to oversee security for the ball the evening next and there was much to be organized that even now he was anxious to attend to.

He had long ago learned, however, that Lady Beryl was not a woman it was wise to provoke. She had risen high in Queen Frysabel’s court in recent years and still had many friends and allies in Heliodor. Her letter to him the previous month—their first communication in years—had had a professed goal of renewing the acquaintance, though he was somewhat doubtful that encompassed the entirety of her design. Hendrik despised the political aspects of his role, but was never foolish enough to ignore them. He could humour the lady until such time as she departed, and then all would return to normal.

Including, he fervently hoped as he pulled the blade across his cheek, the behaviour of his elusive princess.

There was a knock at the door. “Yes?” he called.

“It’s me,” came a muffled voice—the _last _one Hendrik had been expecting, and the _first _one he had been yearning to hear. The shock of the former much outweighed the joy of the latter, to misfortunate result. As he jerked around violently in his seat, his elbow caught on the table mirror and sent it crashing to the floor, glass shards exploding into the air around him.

The door flew open and Princess Jade burst into the room, already crouched into a fighting stance and looking wildly about. Her eyes landed on Hendrik and she paused.

“Oh,” she said after a moment. “You’re not being attacked, then?”

Hendrik swallowed hard. “Not...customarily in my own quarters, no.” He felt a sharp throbbing in his hand, but could not bring himself to tear his gaze from her.

“Right,” the princess murmured, straightening again. “I thought that perhaps...” She trailed off as she began to take in the scene, and he saw her eyes widen. Suddenly Hendrik realized his grievous state of undress in front of his princess and felt a flush come over his bare chest.

“I’m terribly sorry,” Princess Jade said in tone he could almost think strained. To his astonishment, her _own_ cheeks had taken on a slightly reddish hue. “I’ll come back another—”

Her eyes widened again and the next moment she had rushed to his side, the door swinging shut behind her. “Hendrik, your hand!”

He finally managed to pull his gaze away from her face—a nearly insurmountable feat when she was suddenly so near, her enchantingly violet eyes filled with concern—and glanced down. There was a jagged gash on his sword hand, splinters of glass imbedded within it.

Hendrik cleared his throat. “A minor wound, Your Highness,” he tried to reassure her. “I shall have it healed in a matter of—”

“Wait!” He halted in the act of raising his other hand and drawing in his magic, looking up at her with surprise.

“You’ll just trap the glass inside,” she told him, staring down at his hand with narrowed eyes. “It’ll need to be cleaned out first.”

The princess sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled the basin of water nearer to herself. She cast about for a moment before her gaze landed on the towel he wore across his chest and her eyes went back to his.

“May I...” she asked in an oddly hesitant voice. Hendrik nodded tightly and she tugged the cloth off him; the soft scraping as it slid across his skin left him somewhat breathless. She then set to work, dipping the towel in the water and gently wiping at his wound with skillful efficiency. The pain was manageable, made all the lesser due to her expertise.

“I had not thought you such a competent field medic, Princess,” he remarked.

She did not look up, but he saw her lips curve in a smile. “I’ve picked up a few things here and there. Rab wasn’t always around, and even then could sometimes be...incapacitated.”

“Lord Robert does not seem overly fragile,” Hendrik said, frowning. “Did he fall often in battle?”

“I was thinking more after a late night in a tavern watching the dancing girls,” the princess replied with amusement.

Hendrik coughed. “Ah.”

They lapsed into silence then, Princess Jade continuing to clean his wound. Hendrik found himself falling into something of a trance; it had been days since he had last been so close to her, and he was exceedingly aware of the firmness of her fingers around his wrist and the feel of her knees occasionally brushing against his own. He almost wished that he had injured himself more greatly, that she would have reason to linger further.

The absurdity of the thought brought him up short and he mentally cuffed himself. “Was there...was there some reason you came here, Your Highness?”

“Oh, that’s right.” She glanced up at him. “There’s an archery competition starting shortly in the courtyard. Father wanted to know if you’d like to join us.”

The princess paused then and tilted her head. “Isn’t it a bit strange that for all our party’s skill, not one of us knew how to use a bow?”

Hendrik cleared his throat. “Not entirely accurate, Princess—though far from my weapon of choice, I have trained to a modest level of proficiency with it.”

Princess Jade threw him a smirk. “Modest? Let me guess—you can hit a bullseye from three hundred paces?”

“Perhaps closer to two hundred fifty,” he corrected with all the self-effacement so critical to a knight’s character.

She huffed a laugh, and even that quiet sound was such that his ears strained to hear more. “I should have known, I suppose. I’ve actually always wanted to give archery a try.”

A vision swept through his mind, of himself and the princess alone in the training grounds, his hands resting lightly on her hips as he helped demonstrate the proper form, her looking back at him with that achingly lovely smile—

“I...” His mouth seemed to be moving unbidden by his brain, helplessly in thrall to his eager desires. “I could teach you, if you wish.”

Her hand stilled in its movements and he saw her fingers clutch the towel tightly. “I’ll consider it,” was all she said.

Just like that, the camaraderie was swept away and replaced by the uneasy disquiet that had plagued him those past few days. Before he could summon any response, the princess set the towel aside and gestured to his hand. “I think that’s all of it. Go ahead and heal now, Hendrik.”

A bright burst of light filled the room and then faded. Hendrik rubbed at his freshly-healed skin in relief. “Thank you, Princess.”

“Of course.” She started to get up and then hesitated, peering closely at his face. “You missed a spot there, by the way.”

He brought his fingers up to his cheek and felt the slippery coolness of shaving lather. “An oversight,” he admitted with a sigh. “I fear it shall have to wait until I procure a new mirror.”

Princess Jade hesitated again. She glanced over at his razor and then back to him, her eyes unfathomable. “I...could do it for you, if you’d like.” A small smile came across her face. “I’m fairly handy with sharp objects.”

Hendrik was utterly and entirely speechless. He struggled for some moments—a thousand and one arguments on why it was a _staggeringly _poor idea flashing through his head—before he nodded jerkily.

The princess reached over to the dressing table and picked up the razor. She turned to him and seemed to take a deep breath before she leaned in, far closer than before, closer perhaps than she _ever_ had. Hendrik was suddenly very aware of his half-dressed state once more, the objections of impropriety dying in his throat. There was a whisper of floral scent in the air and he felt the touch of light fingers on his chin as they gently held his head in place.

“Keep still,” she murmured, her words ghosting over his lips. 

He would not have moved. He _could_ not have moved. Hendrik was frozen in his seat, his eyes locked onto her face and his breath escaping him in short gasps. He barely resisted a shudder when he felt the first scrape of the blade sliding slowly across his skin; there was a tightening in his trousers as his body responded to the agonizing intimacy of the act. She frowned slightly in concentration and he found himself riveted by the sight of her mouth, so perfectly formed that he felt like a coiled spring of suppressed temptation.

All too soon—or not soon enough, not _nearly_—the princess reached back to place the razor on the dressing table and tilted his chin to one side, inspecting her work. “There. You’re presentable once more, Sir Knight,” she said with hushed satisfaction.

She let his head fall back into place and he expected her to pull away, to retreat to the bounds of decorum and prudent behaviour. But she paused instead, her fingertips brushing over his beard. Her eyes met his before they darted down, unmistakably, to his mouth.

Hendrik’s heart hammered in his chest. He felt he could scarcely draw breath, each pull of air into his lungs a monumental struggle. His hands clenched into fists by his side and he could think of nothing, _nothing_, but how her lips might taste against his own.

He needed her to act. To push through every objection that screamed in his head, to damn the consequences and leap forward with that impetuousness of hers that so distressed and enthralled him. He knew then that he would throw away every ideal and precept he had ever vowed to follow if she would but take that first step.

Princess Jade’s eyes narrowed slightly and she began to lean forward—

The clock chimed and they both jerked back. Hendrik’s eyes flew to the wall and the princess followed his gaze.

“Was there...somewhere you needed to be?” she asked in a low voice.

“No,” he said hoarsely. “I...I had promised Lady Beryl to go riding, but—”

The princess rose from the bed at once and brushed off her skirt. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to keep you!” she said, steadfastly avoiding his gaze. “I’ll tell my father that you’re busy.” There was an unnatural lightness to her tone and it twisted something inside Hendrik’s chest.

“Princess, a moment—” he tried to say, but she ignored him and walked swiftly over to the door before yanking it open and disappearing into the hall.

Hendrik fell back into his chair, an explosive breath escaping him. His mind reeled, struggling to make any sense of the past few minutes. His fingernails dug into the palms of his fists as he willed himself not to chase after her, to beg her to stay, to...to...

His eyes squeezed shut. It was better this way—it had to be. Once removed from her bewitching presence, the jumble of fear came surging back: that he had misread her, that he had _not_ misread her, that he had come perilously close to leaping off a cliff with no ability to catch himself _or_ her. The former was indefensible; the latter unforgivable.

After a few laboured moments, he rose from the chair and resumed preparations for his appointment. The justness of his decisions settled like a stone within him; he was a knight and she was his princess, and there the dividing line should stay. No momentary lapse on his part was worth the turmoil that would result.

Why, then, did the universe itself seem to tremble, as though something had gone _profoundly_ wrong within it?


	12. Before: Gondolia

╔══════════════╗  
**Before: Gondolia**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


The week that followed was as a delirious dream to Hendrik.

For what else could explain the existence of the woman perched on his lap, her fingers tangled in his hair while she pressed light kisses down his neck? He struggled to catch his breath, hands flexing as they dug into the leather skirt at her hips. The afternoon light within his tent was dim and indistinct, but that only seemed to heighten the feel of her lips on his feverish skin.

She trailed over to the edge of his jaw and nipped playfully. “_Princess_,” he could not help but gasp out.

“What did I say about calling me that, Hendrik?” she murmured, nuzzling his ear while her grip tightened in his hair.

Hendrik’s throat caught as he struggled to swallow. “F-Forgive me, Jade...I do not find myself in...full possession of my senses at present...”

The princess drew back and re-settled on his lap, knees sinking into the mattress as her mostly-bare thighs straddled his clothed ones. She had upon her face a mischievous look that he had grown _very_ familiar with in the past several days.

“Then perhaps we should stop here,” Jade said with mendacious concern. “It’s not long before supper, and I’d hate for you to not be able to keep up with the table conversation.”

“That...would likely be wise,” Hendrik agreed, his prudential spirit engaging in a silent war with his libido and resulting in an armed neutrality.

There had been many such mental skirmishes of late, made all the worse by Jade’s determination to progress their physical intimacy despite numerous hindrances. Their free time was limited in many ways, and the lack of privacy afforded by the living arrangements in Cobblestone proved an even greater burden. They had managed these few stolen moments of heated kissing here and there, but further advancement would regrettably have to wait for a more fitting opportunity.

The princess made no secret of how she chafed at the delay; Hendrik was in some danger of chafing for altogether _different_ reasons.

Jade slid her arms from his shoulders, the loss of her warmth keenly painful. “I suppose I’d better go make myself presentable,” she sighed. “It wouldn’t do to show up to supper dishevelled from Sir Hendrik’s _thorough _attentions.”

Hendrik flushed hotly at the same time as a possessive thrill went through him. The sight of her then—hair tousled, lips bruised, complexion heightened—was such that he was tempted to pull her back and show her just how exhaustive his attentions could be; but another matter had resurfaced, one that had been causing him some unease.

“Pr—Jade,” he said hesitantly as she slipped down from the bed and adjusted her skirt. “Do you not think it time to inform the king of our...mutual understanding?”

She raised an eyebrow at his wording but was serious as she answered. “Soon, Hendrik. I was thinking after our outing with the others tomorrow.”

“Very well,” he nodded. “Do you know if it is planned to take some time?”

Jade shrugged, one hand on her hip and the other gesturing in the air. “I haven’t any idea. Rab said something about following up on a rumour he’d heard, but I think it’s just an excuse to see his grandson again.”

“I also share in a certain longing to gather with our companions once more,” Hendrik admitted. “We have been hard at work this past month, and a respite would do us all good.”

A delighted smile came over the princess’s face, enhancing her loveliness so well that he thought his heart might burst. “Sir Hendrik of Heliodor wants to take a break from his duties to spend time with friends? We truly _have_ corrupted you, haven’t we?”

“Perhaps you have,” he replied with a smile of his own. “It is one of the many reasons I must forever remain grateful for our journeys together.”

Her gaze softened and she reached out to brush gentle fingers across his cheek. Hendrik instinctively turned his face to her palm and pressed a kiss to it.

“Well, we’re going to be late if we don’t get going,” Jade said after a moment, eyes filled with something he could not name. She let her hand drop and walked over to the door flap. “Coming?”

Hendrik cleared his throat and shifted slightly on the bed. “I will...yet remain for a time and meet you at the dining tent.”

He had hoped—with the hope of a man who continues to employ tactics long proven futile—that he had remained circumspect enough to escape notice, but her eyes seemed to almost automatically drop to his lap. They widened slightly and he could feel his blush racing up his neck.

“Dear me,” she said with a wickedness in her voice that sent his heart galloping. “You seem to be in quite a predicament, Hendrik. Is there anything I can do to help?”

The knight coughed into his fist. “No, that is...unnecessary. It is a circumstance that I have long grown accustomed to handling myself.”

“Oh, _have_ you?” Jade breathed, and he belatedly realized the double meaning of his words with a rush of chagrin. “Perhaps we should linger to discuss that,” she continued in a throaty tone. “At _length_.”

If it were possible to expire from the excessive concentration of blood in two distinct parts of the body, Hendrik was certain that his funeral preparations would soon be underway. He squeezed his eyes shut in despair. “If it is your strategy to drive me entirely mad, Princess Jade, then I must commend you on your overwhelming victory.”

“High praise from such an illustrious general,” she replied with amusement. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

His hands clenched into the sheets and he nodded tightly, knowing that if he were to look at her then all his careful principles would collapse in tatters around him.

“I’ll see you in a bit,” came her voice as he heard the tent flap rustle and then still.

A long breath went out of him and he opened his eyes again. Hendrik staggered over to his side table and hoisted up the bucket next to it, splashing cool water over his flushed face until he began to regain his composure.

Finally feeling under control again, he set down the bucket and was about to turn from the table when he caught sight of himself in the small mirror he used for shaving purposes. There was a faint line of red marks along his neck, echoing the trail the princess had made with her lips. He lifted one hand and gently brushed his fingers over them, unable to stop the smile that spread across his face as he did.

Hendrik had long known the satisfaction of duties performed well, the exultation of victory in battle, the relief of a quest fulfilled; but he had never felt true _happiness _like this before, weaving its way through every breath of his lungs and beat of his heart until it at times threatened to consume him altogether. The mere sight of his princess was enough to lighten the heaviest of burdens, and he could even now only barely conceive of the future they walked toward together, side by side. Understanding would come later, he knew; for now it was enough to simply _be_.

The flash of his healing spell lit up the dark tent. One by one he watched the marks disappear, leaving only the memory behind.

* * *

Supper was the usual affair, the king joined by his daughter, Hendrik, the Luminary and his mother, and the mayor and his granddaughter.

It was still strange for Hendrik to see the king stand so little on ceremony; even before the days of his possession he had hewed to a rigid sense of decorum that the queen had only partially been able to soften. But now his liege sat at the humblest of tables without a second thought, breaking his bread with people he would once have thought beneath himself.

Admittedly, bread as fine as Amber’s creations would not be out of place at any royal table in the world. Hendrik tore off another chunk and savoured the delectable taste of it, deciding that he would have this, at least, to regret when the time finally came to return to Heliodor.

“Another excellent meal,” King Carnelian said, reading his knight’s mind. “I do not suppose I could tempt you up to the castle kitchens when they are restored, Amber?”

The stout woman chuckled. “Oh, I don’t rightly think so! My home’s here in Cobblestone, as it always has been. Who else will keep the fires warm for my little soldier, hm?”

Hendrik saw Jade smirk at the young man, who hung his head with an embarrassed smile. He did not quite understand the meaning of the interaction, but felt the gladness of their close-knit bond nonetheless.

“Ah, a true pity,” the king said with a shake of his head. Then he turned to Hendrik. “But tell me, Hendrik, did my daughter manage to find you this afternoon?”

The knight, who had been in the midst of chewing yet another mouthful of bread, was forced to rely on a hearty thump from Dunstan to keep from choking. “I beg your pardon, sire?” he wheezed.

Carnelian waved his hand at Jade, who sat there with an unreadable smile on her face as she stirred her soup. “I had asked her to accompany me on a ride earlier, but she said she had matters of town construction to speak with you about.”

“I...that is...” Hendrik felt a kick from a booted foot underneath the table and straightened in his chair. “Ah, yes, Your Majesty! Our discussions were most...most fruitful.”

“Construction, eh?” Dunstan said as he scratched at his mustache. “I hadn’t thought _you_ much involved in that, Sir Hendrik.”

“You’d be surprised,” the princess interjected from across the table. “Hendrik here has a lot of good ideas for new structures that could be erected—particularly in the southern region.”

Hendrik made another very earnest attempt at choking, despite having only his own tongue upon which to do so. And if _that _were not enough to provoke his fervent wish to sink into the very rocks below his chair, Gemma then spoke.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Sir Hendrik!” she said with a clap of her hands. “I can’t wait to see what you and Princess Jade have been working on! You’ll be sure to let us have a proper look, won’t you?”

Jade smiled at the girl, her unruffled air such that Hendrik could only attribute it to sorcery of some kind. “Maybe another time, Gemma.”

“Well, regardless, it shall have to wait until after their return,” King Carnelian said, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “You leave tomorrow, do you not, Jade?”

The princess nodded. “We’re meeting at Cobblestone Falls just after breakfast. I don’t know when we’ll be back, though.” She cast a questioning look at the Luminary but he shook his head.

The king grunted. “Knowing Robert, you shall be tracking down some absurdity or another. I myself followed him on many wild goose chases in the day of our youth.”

“He said he’d heard of something strange near Octagonia, but I can’t think of what’s actually there,” Jade mused with a frown.

“Perhaps it shall become clear when we arrive,” Hendrik replied, at last feeling capable of speech. But then the princess turned to him with a soft smile that was not unlike a crossbow bolt aimed directly at his heart, and he lost the use of his tongue all over again.

After supper had concluded, Hendrik escorted his princess to her tent. Its central location—and the presence of the king’s tent right alongside—made it a poor choice for any of their clandestine encounters, and he kept a very strict command over himself as he made his farewells. It was not, perhaps, what his training had been _meant _to prepare him for, but a knight always made use of the tools at his disposal.

Jade surprised him by pulling him into the shadows on one side, however; she looked furtively about for any observers as she tugged him closer.

“What is the—” He broke off with a muffled groan as her mouth slanted over his. Her arms slid about his neck and he bent down further, helpless to give in to the urgings of her eager lips. She deepened the kiss and he lost himself in the taste of her, time forgoing all meaning for the length that her body was pressed against his.

They broke off eventually, each panting hard.

“Jade...” he murmured, unable to tear himself from her dark eyes.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she told him breathlessly. “Be sure to think of me.”

Hendrik nodded as he brushed her bangs back from her face with one finger. “Always.”

And he did, as he walked back to his own tent on feet so light he might have floated, as he made his preparations for the morning, as he sought his bed and his release both. She was all he _could_ think about, his thoughts filled to overflowing with every precious detail he had memorized and all the ones he surely would in the future.

Happiness: so strange, so wonderful, so miraculous that it was as a delirious dream.

But like all dreams, there came a time when the dreamer must awaken to the world as it truly was; the world as it _had _to be.

* * *

The reunion with their companions was spirited, with many promises of revelry and amusement. The bonds between them had been forged through the fires of Yggdrasil’s fall and could not be broken by such insignificant matters as time or distance. Their quest that day had been but a diversion at first, an excuse to gather together once more; they could never have envisioned what awaited them at the end of it.

They found their way to a ruin, a tower, a platform, a phantom forgotten for more countless years than could be imagined. And then everything—_everything—_changed forever.

* * *

It was Serena who made the suggestion. The young woman was as dazed and staggered as the rest of them, but within her eyes was a light of shining hope that Hendrik could never fault her for. She folded and unfolded her hands restlessly from her perch at the bottom of the tower steps, her short hair swaying with the movement.

“Well,” she said in a tremulous voice, “it’s...a lot to take in, I suppose.”

The party was scattered about the stairway and surrounding grass, the enormous tower looming above them. Hendrik stood to one side with his hand unconsciously resting on his sword hilt. He looked off into the distance with unseeing eyes.

“I mean...” Erik shook his head. “We know what he’s gonna do, right?”

“Yeah, honey, I think we do,” Sylvando said quietly. The man was as subdued as Hendrik had ever seen him, sitting hunched over on the ground with his chin in one hand.

Lord Robert nodded from his seat opposite Serena on the stairs. “Aye, but if I know my grandson, he’s going to want our support for his decision all the same.”

“Then we need to give it to him,” Jade declared. Hendrik’s chest tightened at the sound of her voice, but he did not look at her. “He’s the Luminary and saviour of the world. If he has a chance to make things right, he has to know we stand by him.”

“That’s right!” Serena agreed. “Of course I want Veronica back so much I can scarcely breathe, but it’s not just for her—it’s for all of Erdrea. The senseless loss and heartache...he wouldn’t be the man I first met in that horrid Crypt if he chose any differently.”

She then glanced up at the tall knight standing by himself. “What do you think, Hendrik?” she asked. “If he goes back, things will be much different for you, won’t they?”

Hendrik swallowed hard. “I...would give up all that has happened since that day for the chance to change it.” As he spoke the words, he knew them to be true; but still, still they tasted like ashes in his mouth.

The priestess smiled at him. He looked away after a moment, unable to bear the gratitude he saw in her eyes.

“It’s so strange to think about being _us_ but not, you know?” Sylvando said with a frown. “All the adventures we had together—they’re just going to disappear?”

“The Timekeeper did mention something about time itself being destroyed, lad,” Lord Robert sighed. “That doesnae give much confidence for the world we know right now keeping on.”

Erik shrugged, his hands spread wide. “I don’t think we can really know what’s going to happen. I just...I hope whatever it is, it doesn’t mean we have to learn to live on here without _him _around. That’d be too hard.”

Suddenly a great groaning of stone came from the tower entrance. The party rose as one and turned to the doorway as the Luminary strode back through it. He had no need of words to tell them his decision; the resolve on his face said everything, and Hendrik felt the crushing weight of it settle deep within him.

The Luminary _did_, however, have a further matter to discuss.

“One night?” Erik echoed. “Are you sure you want to wait that long?”

“Ooh, but think of how much we could _do_ with one night, darling!” Sylvando exclaimed, some of the pep going back into him. “I think it’s a fabulous idea! One last hurrah for the heroes of Erdrea!”

“Unless anyone has anywhere else they’d like to go,” Jade pointed out to him. “Wouldn’t you want to spend it with your family, Serena? Or go back to Mia, Erik?”

Erik’s lips pressed together and he turned pensive. “I don’t think so. Honestly, it’d probably just make me want to beg him not to do it.”

Serena nodded firmly. “With our last night in this world, I think we should spend it together. Agreed?”

There was a general murmur of assent. The priestess looked around the group. “In that case,” she continued, “might I make a suggestion? We always wanted to go on a dessert tour of Gondolia, didn’t we? How about we make that trip now?”

“Och, an excellent idea, lass!” Lord Robert beamed. He patted his substantial midsection. “All the cakes and pastries this auld stomach can handle, and I dinnae even have to worry about the belly ache afterward!”

Sylvando made a dramatic pose. “Then it’s settled! Onward, darlings—to Gondolia!”

As the party began to make their way back to the clearing, Hendrik paused. He turned to look at the enormous tower, the setting sun sinking below the hills around them.

One night. One night, and then everything would... His jaw clenched and he gripped his sword hilt so tightly his fingertips went numb.

He was startled by a light brushing against his other hand. A set of much smaller fingers hooked into his gloved ones, linking them together. They squeezed for a moment and then tugged him forward. Silently, and without daring to look down, he followed.

* * *

If there was one thing their fellowship was _well_ capable of, it was making as much noise as the most boisterous of barracks Hendrik had ever visited.

The tavern they eventually wound up in was a comfortable, homey sort of place. The bartender, much used to the rowdiness of the crowds during the Signor Universo contest, seemed not to bat an eye at the large party of diverse characters crammed around one of his back tables. Well, truthfully, _two_ tables shoved together—but fortunately for them, he also did not seem to mind this development.

“Scusa, signore!” Hendrik started and turned back to the bar to see the bartender waving for his attention. The man held up a wide tray with many frothing mugs balanced upon it. “Your drinks, sì?”

“Ah—my thanks.” The knight easily lifted the load and nodded at the bartender before making his way back to the tables.

“No, no, no,” Sylvando was saying as he arrived. The man lounged back in his chair and gestured enthusiastically with an éclair. “_My_ favourite was when Ronnie made us buy that _ridiculous _cat costume for her. Didn’t she insist it helped with her defence?”

Erik snorted and leaned against his propped up hand. “Yeah, it helped right up until a drunken Signor Universo contestant tried to adopt her. _How_ long did it take to convince him she was actually a person?”

“Knowing our Veronica, likely the first Frizz!” Lord Robert chuckled. He then noticed Hendrik with his burden. “Ah, the drinks! Put them here, laddie—I’ve got to wash down all those crumpets with _something_.”

“I’m surprised there’s even any room _left_ inside you for drinks,” Jade shot at him as Hendrik carefully deposited the tray on the table. “You cleaned that poor pastry shop completely out. They’ll be up all night replenishing their stock.”

“Well, at least they know they’ve had some very pleased customers!” Serena said brightly. She picked up one of the mugs and gave it an experimental sniff; Hendrik could not help a small smile at her perplexed reaction.

“Don’t overdo it _too_ badly, honey,” Sylvando warned her slyly. “We wouldn’t want a repeat of our little thief here almost falling off Cetacea, would we?”

“It was _not_ almost!” Erik protested, choking around his drink. “I was still five feet away when I got my balance again!”

Jade smirked at him as she accepted a mug from Hendrik. “Really? Do you often shriek at a high pitch when you’re ‘catching your balance’?”

“Like you’re one to talk. ‘Oh, Yggdrasil is a rather long way above the ground, isn’t it? D-don’t let me fall, will you, heroic Luminary?’”

“That was a _private_ conversation!” she exclaimed, her cheeks turning a bit pinkish. Beside her, the Luminary smiled indulgently into his drink.

Hendrik cleared his throat. “Regardless of the circumstances,” he declared, “there remains no actual danger during our travels on the divine whale. I myself have tested this possibility, only to discover the presence of a magical barrier preventing any such fatal descents.”

Everyone turned to stare at him. “Why in the world did you do that, Hendrik?” Serena asked curiously.

He shrugged. “It seemed pertinent information to have.”

“Barmy, the lot of ye!” Lord Robert shook his head in disbelief. “How _we _all managed to save the world is a real head-scratcher.”

“Well, that’s as good a reason as any to toast, eh?” Sylvando grabbed a mug and hoisted it high. “To us, darlings!”

There was a resounding echo and a loud clinking of glass, and the merriment continued.

As the night went on, Hendrik found himself watching his princess. She seemed in high spirits, laughing and jesting and reminiscing with the others. Her drink she sipped only sparingly, preferring to sneak bites of the sweets they had procured when she thought no one was looking. It could almost have been any of a number of evenings they had all spent together, taking a well-earned break from the ordeals of their fateful quest.

Almost.

He cupped his own untouched mug in his hands and stared into it, the discourse floating around him indistinctly. It was Jade’s voice that finally roused him.

“Well, it’s getting rather late,” she stated as she pushed back her chair and rose. “I think we’ll take our leave.” She grabbed Hendrik’s hand and tugged him up with her; he followed automatically, bemused.

“I suppose we’ll be seeing ye at the inn, then?” Lord Robert asked her. Even the former king’s substantial appetite seemed sated by that point, a plate full of crumbs before him.

Jade paused. “I don’t think so. But we’ll be sure to meet you at the entrance at first light.”

There was a chorus of farewells from the table before they returned to the conversation. Despite their not having informed the party of their new understanding, no one questioned the princess and knight’s leaving together for parts unknown.

As they left, though, Hendrik caught sight of Sylvando’s gaze on their linked hands, a look of profound sadness on his face. Then the door shut behind them and it was gone.

The princess led him through the quiet streets on steady feet; she did not offer any explanation of their course and he did not ask. He instead wondered when she had gained such intimate knowledge of the city, confident footsteps taking them through shortcuts and turnings without hesitation. Despite those months of close association, there yet remained so much he did not know about her, and his heart twisted anew at the thought.

They eventually wound up at a sleepy little inn by the water’s edge, so inconspicuous that Hendrik would have strode right by it if Jade had not halted. A bell tinkled as she opened the door and pulled him into the tiny lobby.

“Need a room?” the clerk asked, covering a yawn with her hand.

“Yes, please,” the princess told her. “Top floor, if it’s available.”

With another yawn, the woman leaned over to grab a key from the wall. “How many nights?”

“Just the one.” Jade’s voice was firm and clear, and Hendrik’s hands clenched into fists at her words.

After paying, they trekked up the stairs to the small room on the fourth floor. It had space only for a modest bed and a wash stand, and the window was open to a view of the Inner Sea, the curtains stirring with the night air.

As soon as the door was shut behind them, Jade was upon him. Hendrik grunted and fell back against the wall as she pressed into him, her arms sliding around his neck and her mouth covering his. His hands went to her waist and he gasped against her lips as he returned her passion, kiss for kiss. She tasted of sweetness and a hint of alcohol and he could not help but groan into it, his mind heady and overwhelmed.

It was not how he had imagined it might happen—the past week, the past _months—_as they stumbled toward the bed together. Instead of the playfulness and teasing commentary he had come to know, Jade was quiet but for her gasps and throaty sighs. She pushed him to the mattress and climbed into his lap, refusing to break the kiss even as she tugged off his gloves as well as hers. He cupped her face in his hands and urged her mouth open, eliciting a soft moan from her when their tongues stroked together.

The night breeze whispered around them as they lost themselves in each other. Hendrik pushed away the anguish, the pain, the fear; locked them into the furthest corners of his heart where they could not trouble him, at least for a little while. She deserved that much, this extraordinary woman who saw through to the core of him as no one ever had.

Their clothing was discarded piece by piece, mouths pulling apart only long enough to aid in the process before coming together again. Jade hummed with satisfaction as she straddled him and ran her hands down his bare chest, tracing his pendant with light fingers before sliding further to his abdominal muscles. They tightened at her touch, then again when she leaned back and tore off her black shirt in a single motion. Hendrik’s chest heaved with his breathless panting, his eyes locked onto her breasts as they swayed temptingly before him.

“Touch me—please,” she whispered. With a shuddering breath, his hands went to her: stroking her skin, cupping her fullness, teasing her with his fingers. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her collarbone and trailing down to kiss and nuzzle at her. She gasped and moaned above him and every sound of her husky voice shot straight down to his stiffened length.

Hendrik would have been content to stay there forever, lavishing attention on her captivating chest, but he knew that his princess had other aims in mind. Though he lacked experience in such acts of intimacy, he had a vague idea that he needed to prepare her for further action; to ensure that she was ready so that he would not hurt her. He hesitantly slid one hand down her firm stomach to her shorts and pushed underneath, seeking out the core of her arousal.

They both gasped when he found it, his fingers slipping through her wetness. Jade rocked her hips against his hand and moaned, and he was forced to still his own to keep from spilling inside his trousers. He moved his fingers experimentally, watching her face closely to gauge her reactions. She was more beautiful than he ever could have dreamed, her eyes half-closed and her lips parted as she panted through them. A hoarse cry came from her throat when he stumbled upon a tight, circular motion, and he returned to her breasts with his mouth as he repeated it again and again.

In an exhilaratingly short amount of time, she was shuddering above him, gasping his name as her climax swept over her. She practically collapsed on top of him afterward and he pulled his hand from her shorts to wrap both arms around her, nuzzling into her hair and breathing in her scent.

After a few moments, she pushed herself up again and met his gaze, eyes dark and hungry in a way that made his heart pound. Her fingers reached out to brush his sweaty hair back from his face.

“I want this, Hendrik—all of it,” she breathed. “Do you?”

Her words swept away the hesitation on his lips, the objections that he would be satisfied going no further than this. He nodded, understanding what she needed and why she needed it and sharing in the same. Under other circumstances, they would be able to take their time. Under other circumstances, they would _have_ the time to take.

They helped each other strip off their remaining clothing and then Jade pulled him back onto the bed, settling on the mattress below him. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her, dishevelled and wanting and looking up at him as if she had imagined this moment just as ardently as he. Hendrik braced his upper body on one elbow and reached down to grasp himself as he moved into position above her.

A ragged moan escaped him as he began to push into her. He struggled to contain himself, to concentrate on her to ensure she was comfortable. But the sensations were no less overwhelming than the staggering emotional weight of it all, so long desired and so long despairing that it would never happen.

Jade’s hands gripped his shoulders and she gave him a small smile of reassurance, shifting her hips to urge him onward. Her eyelashes fluttered as he pressed further in and her mouth opened in a gasp. He worried that he hurt her, but knew that she would never show him her pain; that some vulnerabilities were not his to see.

He slid inside her, agonizingly slowly, until he had some confidence that she had adjusted to his size. Then he pulled out—gritting his teeth at the loss of her tightness—and pushed back in, both of them moaning together as he returned to her heat.

Her hips rocked against his and they moved as one, the pace quickly escalating in a way that tore the breath from his lungs. He wrestled for control over himself and failed to grab hold of it, his stuttered groans panting out of his mouth as he thrust into her. He felt her fingers claw at his back and her legs wrapped around his waist, locking him in place.

In what might have been seconds or minutes, he could not longer tell which, he felt his own climax rush upon him. “Jade,” he gasped out, unable to slow his hips. “I...I cannot...I must...”

One of her slender hands went to his neck and she tugged him down. He hunched over to meet her mouth and a noise was wrenched from his throat at the feel of her urgent lips on his. He choked out her name as he tipped over the edge and finally spent himself inside her. His vision went blurry and he collapsed to the mattress next to her, senselessly feeling the caress of her fingers in his hair, on his cheeks.

It was not how he had imagined it might happen; but it was precious and it was perfect and it was all, all they would ever have.

* * *

They lay there for a long time after, side by side and gazing into each other’s eyes. His arm rested around her waist and her hand remained in his hair, gently stroking.

“I will find my way back to you,” Hendrik said at last, forcing himself to speak around the lump in his throat. “Whatever happens, I will find my way back. I swear it.”

Her eyes clouded over but she did not respond. He swallowed hard, unable to bear the weight of the grief that suddenly flooded up inside, filling him until nearly nothing else remained.

Happiness; it was a miracle that it had happened at all, however brief its time had been. With all his failures and regrets, how could he ever deserve this twice? How could he even dare hope for it?

“I...I shall stay by your side always,” he continued, voice cracking around the words. “Even if...even if, in this other time, you should someday choose another...”

He broke off, his eyes beginning to burn with unshed tears. The next moment, she grabbed his face in her hands and his gaze snapped back to hers.

“Don’t say that,” she whispered fiercely. Her fingers dug into his cheeks and her own eyes shimmered wetly. “There will never be another for me. There couldn’t be.”

Hendrik let out a shuddering breath. He could almost believe it when she said so, the strength of her will shining through his doubts and fears. She could do anything she set her mind to, have anything she wanted; she was the most valiant and loyal person he had ever known and he would forever be honoured by this blessing she had bestowed upon him.

And yet...he had not told her. He should have told her every minute of every day since those first glimmerings of realization, so long ago he could not even remember. Now the time had slipped through his fingers like sand and the hourglass had almost run out.

“Jade,” he choked out, “I—”

Her finger pressed against his lips and she shook her head, a few stray tears finally spilling from her eyes.

“I won’t hear it now,” Jade told him in a hushed voice. “If you ever tell me, let it be when we no longer have to say good-bye.”

Hendrik stared at her, at a loss as to how he could ever account for the revelation that she was. He nodded once, and she gave him a trembling smile.

He pulled her closer then and she nestled against him, her chest shaking against his own. They stayed there until just before morning, listening to the sounds of the sea outside the window.

* * *

They all stood together in that otherworldly place and watched as the Luminary of Legend approached the sphere. Hendrik could see the trepidation and hope on his companions’ faces, their fervent wish that whatever happened, it would all be worth what they were leaving behind.

As the Luminary raised his sword to strike, Jade turned her gaze to Hendrik. She was past tears now, only unyielding determination left as she locked eyes with him. She did not smile or nod but instead made him a silent promise: a promise that Hendrik desperately clung to in those last moments.

There then came a great shattering and the world went white.


	13. After: Heliodor

╔══════════════╗  
**After: Heliodor**  
╚══════════════╝  
  


Jade took a deep breath, staring up at her goal with a shivering mix of fear and resolve. It surely wasn’t too late to back down and claim a pressing engagement elsewhere—the Kingsbarrow, perhaps?

“You all right there, Princess Jade?” Gemma’s head popped over the side of the ledge and peered down at her.

“Yes, of course,” the princess lied. “Just getting my bearings.”

Well, she’d done it now. There was no choice but to bend over and dust her gloved hands with a generous amount of dirt before reaching out to grasp the rope before her.

The climb itself wasn’t too bad—as long as she very decidedly _did not look down_—but the landing at the top was not nearly wide enough to stop the instinctive flip-flopping of Jade’s stomach. It reminded her in a peculiar way of the narrow branches of Yggdrasil those long months ago.

Gemma came over and laid a solicitous hand on the princess’s arm. “Crikey, are you sure you’re okay? You’re looking awfully pale.”

Jade gave her a wobbly smile. “It’s only...a lot higher than I thought, is all.”

“Well, it’s higher yet before we reach the top of the Tor!” The girl shook her head and gestured at her companion, who had already scampered up several more levels while they were speaking. “He said you were a bit nervous about heights, but he didn’t mention it was _this_ bad. Maybe we should go back down, yeah?”

“No,” Jade told her firmly. “After what you told me about the view, I’d like a look for myself.”

“If you say so,” Gemma shrugged. She then turned to her childhood friend and called out to him. “But hey, wait up for us, will you?”

As Jade gingerly began to make her way up the side of the Tor, she wondered with some peevishness if there were perhaps a branch of squirrel ancestry in the Drasilian royal tree; it would certainly explain a lot about the vertical agility of Lady Eleanor’s son. But then, Rab couldn’t make a trip to Phnom Nonh without complaining about the endless stairs, so more likely he’d gotten it from King Irwin’s side.

He waved to her from higher up, clinging to the rock with one hand and seemingly without a care in the world as his chin-length hair swayed in the breeze. Jade gritted her teeth and waved back, deciding that their next tour of the Cobblestone region would involve level ground _only_.

In what was probably a shorter time than it had felt like—because surely she hadn’t been here for a decade or more—Jade hoisted herself over the final ledge and met Gemma’s bright smile as she rose.

“It’s this way!” the girl told her excitedly. “Come on!”

After making their way through a cavern, the path opened up to a large landing. The sun was bright in the sky and sparkled down over the waters of the Inner Sea in the distance. Jade shaded her eyes as she slowly walked out to the centre, a sense of awe overcoming her at the view.

“So this is where the Luminary’s story began,” she murmured.

“I’ll say!” Gemma agreed. “It was right over..._here_ that he saved my life!”

The girl dashed over to one side of the cliff, far closer to the edge than Jade was at all comfortable with. It seemed her sentiments were shared by their companion because he stepped forward with alarm, one hand out.

Gemma giggled at the sight of them and adjusted her bandana. “Cor, you’d think I was actually going to take a tumble and—ahhh!”

She lost her balance and her arms pinwheeled as she dipped perilously toward the edge. The next moment a steady hand had grasped her wrist and hauled her back to safety. Jade’s own hand lay on her chest, where she struggled for breath and tried to calm her racing heart at the thought of all that empty space below them.

“Crikey!” Gemma gasped as she staggered back to the middle of the landing with her friend’s helpful arms about her. “I thought I was done for! Looks like you saved my bacon _again_.”

“Perhaps...we should stay well away from the edge, just in case,” Jade suggested weakly. Something about the scene had struck her oddly, something that seemed just out of reach. For a moment, she almost heard the sound of a waterfall in the distance—but then it was gone.

As her two companions wandered about the landing reminiscing about their first visit, the princess took a deep breath and closed her eyes, turning her face to the sun. It felt warmer here than the valley below—even comforting in a way. She’d heard the story of the Spirit of the Land and wondered if there were any truth to it; there was much magic in the world that she did not understand, and probably never would in her lifetime.

When the time came for them to go, Jade turned back for one last look at the horizon. “You kept him safe when I could not,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

A whisper of wind seemed to come upon her then, saying a gentle farewell. She let it rustle around her for a moment before she left to join her companions for the journey back.

* * *

Puppy teeth could be very deceptive, Jade had quickly learned. They _looked _completely adorable and not at all threatening, but a well-aimed strike—such as, for example, on a person who was teasingly keeping a ball just out of reach—could inflict a critical hit of staggering effectiveness.

“Ouch!” She jerked her hand away and shook it in the air. “You’re a fast one, aren’t you?” she said to the yellow ball of fluff who triumphantly grabbed his prize and pranced off with it.

Nearby, Sandy got up from her bed and walked sternly over to her son, affixing him with a scolding look so universal that it crossed all boundaries between species. The puppy hung his head and shuffled back to Jade, dropping the ball before her with a plop.

“Thanks,” she told him. “But you can go ahead—I don’t actually need it, after all.”

The puppy instantly snatched it up again before she could change her mind and ran off, several of his siblings chasing after him. The resulting scuffle in the corner was filled with high-pitched growls and barks and flying fur.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to take one back with you, Jade?” Amber asked from her place at the stovetop, stirring a pot of something that smelled absolutely fantastic.

The princess smiled at her. “It’s tempting,” she admitted, re-crossing her legs on the floor. “I’ve been pining for a pet, as it happens, and my father’s horribly allergic to cats. A puppy might not be a bad idea.”

“I’m sure you’ve got room up in that great big castle!” the older woman chuckled. “Maybe you could even bring one for that Sir Hendrik of yours, too. Goodness knows he could use a bit of cheer, so stern and frowning all the time.”

Jade’s smile fell a bit. “Maybe,” she said quietly. One of the puppies waddled over to her and she absently scratched it on the head.

Amber spooned out a bit of stew and tasted it with a smack of her lips. “Perfect! Now, did my little soldier say something about your not staying for supper?”

“I can’t, I’m afraid,” Jade sighed, her stomach already mourning the stew that could not be. “There’s a ball tonight at the castle and I must be back by mid-afternoon to get ready. Your son promised he’d Zoom me there.”

“But you haven’t even been here a day!” the other woman scolded her. “And with you showing up last night without a word of warning to anyone.”

The princess winced. “It was a bit of a spur-of-the-moment trip. I’ve...had a lot on my mind lately, and coming here always helps clear my head.”

“Hmm.” Amber set the spoon down and wiped her hands on her apron. “Something you don’t want to do but have to, or something you _do_ want to do but can’t? It’s always one or the other, I find.”

Jade huffed a laugh and pulled her legs into her arms. “A bit of both, honestly. Which doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out, dear.” Amber smiled down at her, so motherly and reassuring that Jade’s heart twisted in two different directions. “After all, you helped rebuild Cobblestone and saved the world with my boy, didn’t you? I can’t think there’s much of _anything_ you’ll give up on without a fight.”

“No, there isn’t,” Jade said slowly.

The other woman chuckled again. “Not that you do a lot of fighting up there in the big city, of course! But you’ve got a strong heart and my son certainly thinks the world of you, make no mistake. Keep that at the forefront and you’ll soon set things right.”

“Thank you, Amber,” the princess replied, and she meant it.

“Now,” Amber said as she resumed bustling about the kitchen, “if you won’t take a puppy then you’ll certainly take a few loaves of bread, won’t you, dearie?”

* * *

Once back at the castle, Jade armed herself for battle. Not with the spear and equipment that lay neatly in a corner of her room, but with an elaborate hairstyle of cascading curls, sparkling jewels at her ears and throat, elbow-length white satin gloves, and one truly spectacular ballgown.

“Ooh, you look simply _divine_, my lady!” one of her maids gushed as she bent down to smooth out the skirt.

Standing in front of the mirror, Jade had to concur. The dress was a vision of purple splendour, beaded and embroidered within an inch of its life and exactly matching the colour of her eyes. She often approached formal events with a certain resignation, still uncomfortable with how inconvenient all this finery could be. But tonight her goal was to make a certain knight’s eyes pop out of his head and she would go to _any_ lengths to achieve it. Judging by what her reflection showed, her strategic plan was proving quite promising indeed.

“Here, my lady.” Her other maid came from the dressing table with the queen’s tiara in her hands. Jade leaned over to allow the girl to carefully nestle it in her hair before rising and inspecting the results.

Both maids clasped their hands together and cooed. “You look just like a princess, Your Highness!”

“I suppose that’s convenient,” Jade noted with a smile. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. Her gloved hands went to her bodice and she adjusted the front, ensuring that her full arsenal was deployed to maximum effectiveness. She may be a princess but she was a warrior too, and she _never_ left a useful weapon in its sheath. With one last nod of satisfaction, she stepped down from the pedestal and marched to the door.

The ball marking the end of the Harvest Festival was the foremost social event of the season. The entirety of Heliodor’s noble class seemed to have turned out, along with visitors from various other countries. Jade’s father had asked her if she wished to invite her friends and she had almost taken him up on that, but the turmoil of the past several days had thrown everything into disarray. She was determined to first settle this in...whatever manner it was settled before seeing them again. Her shoulders went back and she waited at the top of the stairs for the herald to announce her appearance, listening to the music and the loud murmur of conversation in the hall below.

“Her Royal Highness Princess Jade of Heliodor!” the man boomed with a grand flourish of his arm.

There was a wave of bows and curtsies from the crowd as she descended the stairs, willing herself not to trip over her own two feet. The taller heels had _seemed_ like a good idea back in her quarters, but the reality of them was a bit more precarious.

Her father met her at the bottom of the stairs. “Dearest,” he said warmly, extending his hand. “You look remarkably beautiful this evening. If only your mother were here to see you.”

“Thank you, Father.” Jade pecked him on the cheek and then looked around, trying not to strain up on her tiptoes; not only was it _very _un-princess-like behaviour, but also rather too risky with these shoes. Her eyes scanned the room and attempted to pinpoint the personification of discomfort, purple hair and all.

“If you are not too eager to dance,” the king continued, “there are a few introductions I wish to make. Shall we?”

Jade inwardly sighed. Up there with dressmaking, this was _also_ one of the more tedious aspects of her role as crown princess, but she forced a smile and nodded at her father.

“Where’s Hendrik gotten off to?” she asked him casually as they walked further into the room. “Surely he can’t have pled an excuse and retired already?”

“I have tasked Hendrik with overseeing security this evening,” her father replied. “With whispers of possible dissent against the throne in the air, we cannot be too careful.”

“I see.” Jade valiantly attempted to shove her disappointment down where it wouldn’t show in face or voice. Of course that’s why she hadn’t seen him yet—and knowing how seriously he took his duties, he might well be occupied the entire evening. It didn’t seem that things could possibly be going worse for her at the moment.

She was, unfortunately, wrong. “Jade my dear,” her father said then, “have you by chance met the lady Beryl?” Her head jerked up even as her stomach sank.

Lady Beryl was standing in front of her, bedecked in a stunning emerald gown that—far from eclipsing—seemed only to enhance her radiance. Her carefully-arranged blonde locks spilled down one side of her neck, not a hair out of place. Despite Jade’s efforts, she noted with disgruntlement that the woman _still_ had several inches on her.

“Princess,” Beryl said, dipping into a graceful curtsey. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Jade returned with an arduous attempt at civility. “I’d wondered if I would have a chance before your departure. It must be soon, surely?”

(Well, perhaps sixteen years on the road with a man like Rab had still left a few rough edges on her.)

“I haven’t decided yet,” the lady replied with a cool smile. “I’m quite enjoying the renewal of old acquaintances during my visit.”

Her father made a small noise of agreement, already looking at another group of partygoers nearby. “As do we all, Beryl. But I am afraid there are many people to see. Come along, Jade.”

The princess could not help a glance back as they left, but Beryl had already vanished into the crowd.

It was all of thirty minutes before she could escape the proceedings, and by the end of it her face hurt from the constant smiling and ‘how do you do’s. Her eyes had kept straying to the dance floor and she seriously considered grabbing a random nobleman or officer of her acquaintance and demanding that he escort her. But it wasn’t the same, somehow, not having the option to drag a _particular_ man despite his fervent protestations. Her one consolation was that if _she_ didn’t have a chance to force him there, then _Lady Beryl_ also didn’t. Sheer pettiness was the last refuge of the disappointed, and she embraced the label wholeheartedly.

Jade went to the refreshments table instead and procured a glass of wine. She’d just taken a sip when someone sidled up next to her and leaned back with his arms crossed.

“Tedious, isn’t it?” Lord Realgar said with a wave of his hand. “I’ve attended this ball every year for almost my entire life, and it remains one of the stuffier events of Heliodorian society.”

“Perhaps something should be done about that,” Jade smiled. “Live performers might do the trick. I know someone in the Gallopolitan circus who’d be delighted to make the arrangements.”

Realgar nodded vigorously. “You would certainly have _my_ vote for queen. Not that we vote on the matter.” He hesitated then, and gave her a sideways glance. “I actually came over to thank you, Princess Jade.”

“What for?” she blinked.

“For turning me down.” His lips curved into a crooked smile. “You are, of course, one of the most beautiful women in the world and it would have done me the greatest honour, but...”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to say it—I understand. Your family?”

“Always,” he sighed. “Being the oldest child and heir brings with it certain responsibilities. I had to at least tell them I tried. But luckily you weren’t any more enthused than I was, and now...” His smile turned a bit sheepish. “I’ll have to introduce you to my fiancée next time. She’s in Gondolia at the moment, but I’m sure she’ll be delighted to meet you.”

“Oh.” Jade huffed a laugh. “That was quick.”

“True love waits for no man,” Realgar declared with exaggerated seriousness before he grinned at her.

After he left, Jade swirled her wine around in its goblet and stared at it pensively. She certainly hadn’t been tempted to accept any of the proposals she’d received so far, but why did it sting so much to have someone be _relieved_ not to marry her? Was it really that dreadful a prospect? Could it—could it possibly be part of why...

“Princess Jade.”

The wine sloshed dangerously as she jerked toward the voice and she only barely managed to keep from spilling it all over her dress. Hendrik was before her, standing stiffly. His armour and chainmail had been polished to a sheen and his black and red cape hung from his shoulders. He was as much out of place in a ballroom as she would have been on the parade ground at that moment, and clearly as uncomfortable.

As her heart sped up and she drank in the sight of him, her one prevailing thought was that she’d missed it. He’d seen her in her gown and had surely had a reaction, and she’d _missed_ it.

Hendrik bowed, one fist to his heart. “Forgive me for startling you, Your Highness.”

“It’s all right.” Was it her imagination, or did his eyes trail lingeringly down her body before snapping back to her face? “I...thought you were on duty.”

“I am,” he confirmed. “I came only to make a report to the king and pay my respects.” He hesitated for a moment and then his gaze seemed to drop again. “You look...particularly fine tonight, Princess.”

Just when she’d thought there couldn’t possibly be any more disappointments in store for her that evening, she’d been proven wrong again. So much preparation and hope and expectation and all he could say was ‘particularly fine’, in a tone of such neutrality that her stomach clenched within her.

“Thank you, Hendrik.” Her voice sounded distant even to her own ears. “Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you, so...”

His eyes widened slightly for a second—she couldn’t think why—before he took the hint of his dismissal and made her another bow, turning and striding away through the mass of people.

Jade watched without blinking until he was no longer in view, then bent her head back to drain the entire goblet in one go. Her gloved hand pounded it on the table with a clunk that made the nearby servers jump and then she stalked out of the hall.

* * *

The gardens were cool that night, the late summer flowers showing signs of frost upon their petals. Jade wandered aimlessly for a time, feeling relief at the quiet darkness of the place compared to the noise and light of the Great Hall. It was often a favourite haunt of hers—a way to feel closer to her mother and share in her passions—but she seldom ventured there at night. Her heels clicked on the stone pathways as she walked around the winding flowerbeds, enjoying their floral scent in the air.

She eventually came to a bench that lay next to a large pond in the shade of an oak tree. The bench was fairly recent, but the pond and tree had been there since her earliest memories. She slowly sat down, her dress rustling as she gathered it up beneath herself to keep it from wrinkling. Her eyes drifted over the still water, the floating lily pads, the grassy banks—even a small pile of rocks she thought she spied hidden beneath a bush.

Where had it all gone wrong? Jasper, Dundrasil, the life she’d been supposed to lead; the lives Lady Eleanor and her son should have had, and Rab, and her father—everyone who had been marked by that evil touch and come away lost and grieving. It had all seemed so simple back then, when she’d been a foolish, spoiled little girl with two half-trained knights wrapped around her finger.

Perhaps that was the problem. Perhaps things _weren’t_ really all that different from before. Perhaps she was still that spoiled girl, expecting that just because she _wanted_ something, she should be allowed to have it with no thought for anyone else’s choices. All she was in control of was her own, and that might never be enough.

Jade took in a long, shuddering breath. What had only been a silly diversion of children suddenly felt so different to her now. She’d certainly grown up lovely and she _definitely_ had her pick of suitors, but she’d made her choice all the same. Not back then, not during all those years of exile, but when it had finally, truly meant something. So much had changed for her since that day.

But maybe nothing had for him, and that was what scared him so: the thought that he might have to deny her wishes through no fault of his own.

She had just resolved to get up and return to the ball, desiring very much to lose herself in dancing and not think of anything at all, when there came the sound of footsteps on the path. Jade sat very still on the bench, the tree’s shadow concealing her; she didn’t wish to speak to anyone at that moment, and hoped they’d soon pass by.

The steps halted very close to her hiding spot, however, and seemed to be a pair: one the light click of heels and the other heavy boots.

“Well? What have you to report?” hissed a deep voice that took her a moment to place. Sir Albite, she thought—one of the few of Hendrik’s knights who had dared propose to her, not that she would ever let _him _know that.

“It’s all going according to plan,” replied the unmistakable lightness of Lady Beryl. “I had a bit of a setback tonight with his not attending the ball, but I can overcome it.”

Albite snorted. “Are you certain you’re getting through to him? Sir Hendrik isn’t the cleverest of men, you know.” Jade’s back stiffened and she craned her ears to hear more.

There was a short laugh from Beryl. “Believe me, I can get _any_ man I set my sights on, and we have a bit of a history besides. I’ll have him proposing to me within the week, I promise.”

“I thought _I’d_ had it in the bag with Princess Jade, but we all know how that worked out,” Albite bit back. “She didn’t seem to fall for any of the _others_ we put forward either. It would have been so much easier to work through her, but now we have to do this the hard way.”

“Relax, Albite,” Beryl purred. “I’ll have Hendrik eating out of the palm of my hand in no time, and once he’s distracted we can get rid of his precious—and _very _inconvenient—princess of Heliodor. Then with the king still so frail from his recent troubles...” She left her sentence hanging ominously in the air.

Jade’s breaths were coming in very quick rasps. She stayed still as a statue and warred with herself about whether she should confront them immediately or wait to hear further details. Prudence won out, but only barely.

“You’d better be right, Beryl,” Albite grunted. “I’m putting a lot on this plan of yours and I expect results. If a word of it gets out, it’ll be straight to the dungeons for us—or worse.”

Beryl laughed again. “Any plan that depends on Sir Hendrik of Heliodor being a complete fool for beautiful women is a guarantee, Albite. It’s almost a pity Sir Jasper isn’t still around. He’d have been a _lot _more fun to go up against.”

“Very well. I’ll inform the others—we should get back to the party.”

Two sets of footsteps then turned and faded away, leaving Jade alone on her bench with a roar of outrage surging within her.

Her father had been right: there _was_ treason afoot against the crown, and it sounded serious. The allusions to some kind of _others_ hinted at a greater conspiracy that had possibly been in the works for some time. Jade could only imagine that her sudden appearance and resumption of her title had thrown a wrench in the whole idea, and now they were scrambling to regroup. Once exposed, the shocks this would send through the court and Heliodor’s nobility would be staggering.

The treachery was certainly deplorable and would need to receive the utmost attention. But Jade could not tear her mind from Lady Beryl’s sneering words about Hendrik: his foolishness, his obliviousness, the airy confidence that she could manipulate him into becoming hers simply because she wished it. Perhaps he _did _get a bit—all right, a lot—flustered around beautiful ladies, but he was far and away the most loyal, heroic man Jade had ever known, and any woman should count herself lucky to receive the honour of his affections. To hear him spoken of with such contempt was almost more than she could bear.

Especially here in these gardens, where he’d _already_ made a proposal many years ago. Yes, she’d been a child and he not yet a man, but Jade retained the right of first refusal and she’d be _damned_ if she was letting that go. If he could never see her that way—if all hope was to be lost—then let her hear it from his own lips. Until then, she refused to give him up to Lady Beryl or any of her ilk. She had spent so much of her life fighting for others, and now it was time to fight for herself.

The heavy doors to the Great Hall groaned as Jade pushed them open. The ball was in full swing, chattering conversation and laughter flooding all around her. The princess walked on determined feet past the crowds, searching for the flash of emerald she knew was in there somewhere. Finally she spotted it in the middle of the dance floor, spinning around with all the graceful elegance of a viper.

Jade marched directly through the dancing couples and groups as people stuttered to a halt in her wake. She reached the centre of the floor and stopped, gloved hands on her waist and staring forward with grim resolve.

Beryl noticed her at the same time the musicians realized the impending situation; she slowed to a pause in her dance as the nervous strains of the instruments faded away. A hush spread like a wave through the crowd until all was silent and every eye was on the princess.

“Lady Beryl of Sniflheim!” Jade said in a ringing voice. “I hereby charge you with conspiracy to commit treason against the crown of Heliodor!”

There was an excited buzz through the throng of people watching. Beryl’s partner gaped and scrambled to remove himself from the dance floor, but the lady herself turned to the princess with a look of eerie calm on her face.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand you, Princess Jade,” she frowned. “What nonsense are you speaking?”

“I heard you and Sir Albite in the gardens,” Jade bit out. “I know your plan, and there’s no use in denying it.”

Beryl smiled, as chilly as a Sniflheim winter. “But deny it I do, Your Highness. And where does that leave us?”

Jade hesitated, keenly feeling the presence of those hundreds of people riveted to the scene. The rashness of her plan—if it charitably _could _be called a plan—suddenly thrust itself to the forefront. There were half a dozen other, more prudent courses she could have taken, including telling her father or Hendrik before confronting Beryl so publicly. Her impulsiveness had broken many a window in her life and she’d never been a competent glazier.

But she _was_ a princess and a warrior and one of the saviours of Erdrea, and none of those roles had ever lent themselves toward caution. This was for Heliodor’s sake—and Hendrik’s, too.

“Then you leave me no choice,” Jade replied. She tugged at the fingers of her right glove and then peeled it off from the elbow. Down to the floor she tossed it, directly at the other woman’s feet. “Lady Beryl, I challenge you to a duel. Let its outcome prove the truth of my words.”

There were gasps from the crowd that time and Jade heard a stirring from far back within it, as if someone were desperately attempting to get through. Beryl glanced down at the glove before looking back at the princess.

“You silly girl,” she said, deadly soft. “Is this all because you want him and cannot have him?”

Jade’s chin lifted. “No. It’s because the likes of _you_ will never deserve him.”

The attack came without warning. Beryl pulled a knife from somewhere within her dress and charged at Jade, slashing at the princess with a furious cry. Jade dodged the first blow and parried the next with her heeled foot, her skirts whipping around herself as she moved. There was a great tearing sound as the blade caught on the beading and ripped a long slit up the heavy satin.

Well, if Lady Beryl wished to help improve her mobility, so much the better. Legs now free, Jade sent a flurry of blows at the other woman that she just managed to evade before leaping back with a snarl. The princess crouched down to duck another slash and the edge of the knife nicked her cheek. Wiping the blood away with the back of her still-gloved hand, Jade leapt into the air and spun around in a vicious kick. She hit the side of Beryl’s neck and knocked the woman sprawling to the floor, the knife skittering away on the polished marble.

Beryl panted as she struggled and failed to rise, glaring up at the princess standing above her.

“Looks like I’ve won, Beryl,” Jade said with the triumph of battle victory singing through her. She leaned over and continued in a low voice: “And for future reference, the only person who is _ever_ allowed to force Sir Hendrik to dance, is _me_.”

At that moment, the man himself burst through the crowd with a unit of guardsmen right behind him. “Seize her!” Hendrik shouted, pointing at Lady Beryl. “And find Sir Albite!”

The partygoers seemed to retrieve their senses and a great commotion began as a fighting Lady Beryl was dragged away by guards. Amid the tumult, Hendrik rushed to his princess, frantic worry in his eyes. His hands raised to heal her cheek with a flash but stayed extended afterwards, as if he did not know what to do with them; or knew, and did not know if he dared. Both possibilities sent a fluttering thrill through Jade.

“Are you—are you all right, Princess?” he asked her urgently.

Jade smiled at him, the very _un_-knightly image of discomposure and anxious concern. “I’m quite well, thank you.” She then sighed with a dramatic flair that she could only attribute to having spent far too long around Sylvando. “But I’m afraid my new dress is _entirely_ ruined.”

* * *

It was some time later. Jade sat by the grassy pond in the gardens, rumpled gown and all, figuring that a few stains couldn’t put much more of a dent in it than Lady Beryl’s knife had. She absently toyed with a rock, her equally-spoiled gloves on the bank beside her. The chilliness of late night had started to set in and she suppressed a shiver.

A clanking sound soon came to her and she looked up. Hendrik walked toward her on the stone pathway and halted a respectful few feet away. “I had wondered where you had gone, Your Highness.”

“I’ve been here awhile,” she said, rising and dusting off her ruined skirt. “Did you finally find Sir Albite?”

“We did,” Hendrik replied in a flinty voice. “The king has ordered them to both be fully interrogated. The lady Beryl has proven most reticent, but Albite seems more than willing to make a full confession of his crimes—as well as the involvement of others.”

A thought came to her, and Jade felt a painful twisting at the idea. “Did he mention anything about Lord Realgar among them?”

“No, Princess.” The knight’s tone was neutral but she detected a hint of strain behind it. “It appears that _his_ proposal to you was genuine, at least.”

Relief came over her. It had been difficult enough making friends at court without the complication of the attempted coup; she was glad that she still might count the man among them.

Jade cleared her throat. “That’s good. We’ll be a while sorting out the conspirators from the innocent, I’m sure.” She then paused and took a breath before soldiering on. “I am...sorry about Lady Beryl, though. I know you used to be close.”

Hendrik looked away with a contemptuous snort. “I may once have counted her as a friend, but clearly the years have warped her beyond recognition. Albite’s betrayal is a far more cutting blow.” He let out a sigh. “My record of blind trust with men I have known twenty years or more has not held up well of late.”

She didn’t know what she could possibly say to that. Hendrik looked very tired just then as he stared out at the pond, and she wondered if he, too, was burdened by the memories that seemed to lie heavily in the very air around them.

“Be that as it may,” he continued, meeting her eyes as they returned to his, “I have my doubts that further treachery will be soon attempted. It is a dangerous course to conspire against a princess so intent on taking matters into her own hands.”

Jade heard the mild reproach in his voice and straightened. “It seemed to work out fairly well this time, didn’t it?” she asked challengingly.

“You are to be commended on your performance, as always,” Hendrik told her. “But In the future, Your Highness, if you would but inform me of the situation then there would be no need to put yourself in harm’s way. It is _my_ responsibility to investigate and respond to threats against the crown.”

Her retort died on her lips when she saw the troubled look in his gaze. It reminded her of that desperate concern of earlier, when she had thought for just a moment that he’d been about to reach out to her and...she wasn’t sure what. He knew she was more than capable and had always treated her as such, but it was different here, as a princess living in a castle. As much as Jade sometimes longed for the simplicity of her old life on the road, everything had shifted forever.

Exactly _how_ much still remained in question. Was this a protective worry for the girl he could not help but see, or something different—something _more? _Despite the clenching fear in her stomach, it was suddenly an imperative for her to find out.

“I know it’s your duty and that I should have come to you first,” she admitted, eyes trained on his. “But when I heard Beryl start talking about her planned entrapment of you, it all started to feel rather...well, personal.”

His brow furrowed in confusion but she wouldn’t let herself stop for his inevitable queries. “She warned me that night at the festival—that you’d never be able to look at me the way you could her. And I think...a part of me believed her. Enough that I couldn’t even stand the sight of you with her, and steeled myself for the inevitable.”

Jade let out a breath and her chin lifted. “But that all changed tonight. I knew I might have to give you up for love. I knew I might have to give you up because you didn’t see me as I wanted you to. But I wasn’t willing to give you up to a woman who disdained the worth that _I_ know is in you—not without a fight.”

Hendrik was by that point gaping at her, his eyes gone wide. “Perhaps she was right about that one part,” Jade said quietly, finally dropping her gaze. “I couldn’t blame you if she was. Even so...I had to try. I could never live with myself if I let you go without finding out.”

She fell silent, eyes still cast downward, and there was a lengthy pause. After a few moments, she sneaked a glance at him. He...wasn’t saying anything. He was staring at her and his throat was working soundlessly but he wasn’t _saying_ anything.

The princess was not known for her cowardly behaviour—especially not with her history of leaping into battle with Malicious Black Dragons on _more_ than one occasion—but matters of the heart certainly seemed to carry a greater weight to them than any battlefield romp. Her heart pounded relentlessly in her chest and her lungs struggled for air.

Unable to stand it any longer, she spun around. Regardless of what he said or didn’t, the answer seemed clear. Her hands clenched into fists and she had half a mind to march over to the training ground that very minute and take her rejection out on a hapless dummy, torn dress or not.

Before Jade could take a step, however, something stopped her—it was almost as if the very universe were blaring at her about the wrongness of this action, and she stood frozen in place.

The very next moment, he spoke: “Princess.”

She turned to see Hendrik gazing at her with an intensity that stole her breath away. His chest filled with his own before he continued.

“Though the lady Beryl’s plan was cunning indeed, there is one critical flaw she failed to account for,” he said in a gravelled voice. “Which is that my heart belongs to you and you alone. And if I cannot have you, then I will have _no one_.”

Before she could even grasp the meaning of his words, he marched over to her with all the resolve of a sworn knight, cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her.

Jade gasped, her eyes fluttering shut as she felt the soft press of his mouth against hers. His gloved fingers trembled on her cheeks and she heard his shuddering intake of breath. They stayed that way for one eternal, precious moment before he pulled back.

Hendrik’s eyes were hooded as he looked down at her. “Princess Jade...” he murmured with something approaching awe.

“If you take it back, I’m fetching my spear,” she whispered to him, her lips curving shakily.

He let out a huff and nodded. “I would retrieve it for you _myself_ in that case, Your Highness.”

“Then I suppose we’re in agreement.” Before he could speak again, her arms went around his neck and she tugged him back down with a grip that brooked no opposition.

They stole through the hallways together, the princess pulling him along by a hand firmly clasped in hers. The uproar from the ball earlier had quieted, the guests gone and the servants in their beds. There were no guards to meet them in the lower passages of the castle and it seemed almost that they were the only two people in the world.

She cast a look back at him every now and then, unable to help the smile on her face, and he met her with—not quite a smile of his own, but wonderful and captivating all the same. He had an air of dazed disbelief about him that she could well understand; but something about that journey through the darkened corridors felt so profoundly _right_ to her, like it had happened in a dream so long ago she could barely remember it.

When they finally reached his quarters, he fumbled for the handle before shoving it open and stumbling inside. Jade just had time to take in the dim, firelit room before he had her pushed up against the back of the door, his hands cradling her face as he kissed her senseless. She craned her neck and his armour creaked as he hunched over, trying to account for the absurdity of the height difference.

“Do you think you could—” Her words cut off with a gasp as his gloved hands went to the back of her dress and he hoisted her in the air. Her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist and he pressed her once more to the door, now face to face. He panted through his parted lips and looked at her in a way that sent a rush of heat through her body. Then his mouth was on hers again and she thought no more.

At least not until their hips rocked together and she felt the _very_ substantial evidence of his desire. “Dear me,” she said breathlessly in between fervent kisses. “You seem to be in quite a predicament, Hendrik. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I should think it no less than your responsibility,” he responded with a low groan, his lips beginning to trail down her neck. “Do you have any idea what this gown has done to me?”

“No,” she gasped when his beard scraped at her sensitive skin. “I was—so disappointed that I’d missed your reaction—”

He shook his head and sucked at her pulse point. “Better that you had, or I may not have been able to control myself. You are perfectly _ravishing_ tonight, Jade.”

She didn’t know if it was more his compliment or the unexpected use of her name that had her pulling him back up to capture his mouth again. Hendrik was...different somehow, than she’d always imagined. Bolder, more sure of what this was; as if they were picking up right where they had left off.

Eventually they made it to the bed, where an unforeseen complication arose. “How in the world do you have the patience for all this nonsense?” Jade demanded as her fingers scrabbled at the straps of his armour.

“Generally my rush to remove it is not so compelling as this,” Hendrik responded with frustration. He glowered at a stubborn buckle and she could not help a laugh, feeling so giddy that she might have been able to float if she’d tried. His face softened as he looked up at her and she couldn’t resist leaning over to kiss him again.

Together they worked to remove the plate and the mail and the leather—she was beginning to wonder if there even _was_ an end—leaving him bare-chested in his short trousers. Jade made an attempt to climb into his lap, eager to explore the tantalizing muscles now exposed, but the folds of her torn gown stymied her.

“Help me with this,” she told him, turning so he could undo the laces of the bodice. She felt his fingers brush over her neck with a shiver before they went to her back and tugged at the elaborate ribbons there. Before he was completely done, however, he gently spun her to face him again. Jade looked down questioningly.

“I wish to see you,” he said in a husky voice, hands reaching around to her back to undo those last laces. When he had finished, he seemed to hold his breath as she slipped her arms through the sleeves and let the front of the dress drop.

Hendrik’s reaction made up for every last one of those disappointments, both that day and any other. He looked staggered as he took in the sight of her breasts, his breath sucking in sharply and his hands clenching into fists on the sheets.

“Was it worth the wait?” Jade asked with as much archness as she could muster through the heart-pounding thrill.

“_Yes_,” he breathed and she felt another instinctive throbbing between her legs.

“Then touch me—please,” she whispered; her ever-faithful knight rose to the occasion—and then some.

They soon fell atop the bed, Jade’s back hitting the mattress and Hendrik above her. She pulled him down for a kiss, long and feverish, and when it broke off his lips moved immediately to her cheek, her jaw, her neck, further. His pendant dangled between them and brushed against her skin, making her shudder from the cool contrast to his touch. Her chest heaved as his mouth returned to her breasts and he lavished attention upon them for some minutes before continuing his trail downwards, pulling her dress off as he went.

When he pressed a lingering kiss to her hip, her hand went to his cheek. He looked up at her with eyes gone dark and wanting.

“Are you...are you sure?” was all she asked.

“I have never wanted anything more,” he rasped, breath puffing against her upper thigh and making her squirm. Then he tugged the last of her skirts off her legs and moved between them, his head ducking down.

When she felt the first tentative brush of his mouth at her core she moaned, her breath coming in quick gasps that she never quite caught again as he began slowly stroking her with his tongue. Her back arched and she could not help her hips rocking against him as his large fingers dug into her thighs, holding her in place.

It was the most incredible she had ever felt in her entire life, and she gasped and whimpered shamelessly at the attentions he so thoroughly paid between her legs. Her hands blindly grabbed for a fistful of his hair and she tugged at it, bringing a grunt from him as he concentrated.

Soon—how could it be so soon? Was it possible to cast Oomphle upon one’s mouth?—she was bucking against him and clasping his head so tightly to her that he surely could not breathe. She cried out his name as her climax crashed over her and she was lost to the waves of pleasure, her vision going scattered. When the throbbing finally began to subside, she saw him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand before returning to her side by the pillow and stretching his arm over her.

“What...what in the world do they teach you in those magazines of yours?” Jade asked in a strangled voice.

The arm stuttered to a halt halfway through its motion and then his hand went to cover his face instead. “Am I to be plagued by such relentless mockery even _now?_” Hendrik said, so despairingly that a broad smile came across her face.

“That all depends if you can think of a better occupation, Sir Hendrik,” she teased. The hand fell from his face to reveal eyes gone wide as her fingers trailed down his clenched stomach. She brushed them lightly over the bulge in his trousers and his hips jerked upward with a low moan.

Together, they managed to relieve him of his remaining clothing and then he lay before her, his eyes half-lidded and his brow furrowed as he waited for her reaction. Jade had precisely two: the first being how eagerly she wanted to spend at _least_ a few hours exploring every inch of him until he was a quivering mess before her; the second wondering how he was _ever_ supposed to fit inside.

Well, nothing ventured... She slid one leg over his hips and straddled his large thighs, a hand on his enthralling abdominal muscles and the other reaching down to grasp him loosely.

“_Jade_,” he choked out, and wasn’t _that_ the most thrilling sound she could ever have imagined? She squeezed her legs and held him down as he helplessly tried to thrust against her. “Is this—is this what you truly—”

“We’ve waited long enough, Hendrik,” she told him in a hushed voice. “I’m not going to risk another coup happening or a star falling out of the sky.”

After a moment he gave her a jerky nod and his eyes locked onto her hand as she rose above him and got into position. She took in a deep breath, lined him up with her entrance, then began to sink down.

It was...strange. Thankfully not painful after all the stories she’d heard, but strange nonetheless. Hendrik seemed to have a much more positive initial opinion, the air going out of him in a long moan as she slowly took him inside her. His hands clutched at the sheets and she could feel the tension in his body as he valiantly attempted not to buck into her before she was ready.

“Jade,” he gasped, his eyelids fluttering. “It—it feels—I cannot describe how much I—” His voice broke off with a strangled sound when she sank another inch downward. He was hot and throbbing inside her and she felt so breathlessly _full_ not even halfway through.

He groaned at the loss of her when she lifted herself up, then again as she slid back down, going further that time. Her fingers dug into his flexing stomach and she forced herself to relax, taking him as deep as she thought she could this first time. She stayed there for a few moments, matching her panting breaths to his own.

As soon as Jade felt adjusted, she experimentally rocked her hips; a jolt of pleasure went through her core and Hendrik’s head fell back onto the pillow with a startled moan. Well, that was interesting. One of his hands flew to her waist and he clutched at it, clearly torn between wanting her to have control and wishing desperately for her to do that again. Deciding to have the best of both worlds, she did, and his reaction sent another shock of arousal through her.

She leaned over him as she moved and watched his hooded gaze drop to her swaying breasts. “Fancy a puff-puff, Hendrik?” she asked in her most sultry voice.

“You must not—” Hendrik gritted his teeth and his eyes squeezed shut. “I am too close to—I cannot—” He began to thrust up into her despite his iron self-control and a surge of triumph went through her, that _she_ had brought him to this heaving, shuddering state.

A moment later, he cried out her name as he bucked into her and she felt him pulsing deep within. He seemed to go boneless beneath her, his eyes open but unseeing as he struggled to catch his breath.

Jade could have been disappointed at how short it all had been, but she wasn’t. Judging by how much her thighs ached as she slipped off him, it was probably best to start slow—they had nothing but time, after all.

He surprised her when he pulled her to him with his enormous arms and tangled one hand in her hair. She laid her head on his sweaty chest and listened as the racing of his heart gradually evened out. After a while, she shuffled over and he shifted so that they were turned toward one other, eyes locked on each other’s faces.

“So I suppose that’s a ‘later’ on the puff-puff, then?” she asked him quietly.

Hendrik shook his head—more in resignation than as an actual denial of the offer, she guessed.

“That was...” He swallowed hard. “Indescribable.”

She reached out to brush his damp hair back from his face. “I’ll take that over ‘unspeakable’, personally.”

His arm went around her waist and she snuggled into him, their breaths mingling. His gaze was soft and warm and he looked as her as though...as though she were _everything_. Her heart suddenly felt so full she almost didn’t know what to do with it.

Jade leaned in and lightly pressed her mouth to his. “I love you,” she whispered against his lips, and she had the oddest, most improbable feeling as she said it, like something awry had profoundly slotted back into place.

Hendrik’s eyes shimmered suspiciously as he gazed at her. “And I you,” he choked out. “You...you cannot fathom how much I love you.”

“Oh, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea by now,” she murmured, tracing his jawline with one finger.

The coolness of the room seemed to come over her all at once and she shivered. His eyes widened with concern and he pulled her closer.

“Jade, you might catch cold!” he said with hushed alarm. “Here, come under the blankets—”

“Why in the world would I use a blanket when there’s a perfectly good cape on the floor?” she asked archly. “You can’t tell me it hasn’t factored into at least a _few_ of your daydreams.”

“I...cannot,” Hendrik replied stiffly—in more ways than one.

She smiled at him, and it came to her more easily than any smile had in sixteen years. “Then why don’t you fetch it? But hurry—don’t give me time to miss you.”

Although he did scramble with admirable haste to do her bidding, Jade found she missed him anyway. And when he returned and they curled into each other underneath the black and red cloth, it felt like they were exactly where they were meant to be all along.

It felt like the start of something _new_.


	14. Epilogue: Heliodor, Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand here's the end! Thank you so much to everyone who followed along and shared their thoughts throughout--it was a super fun way to post something I worked really hard on because I'm dumb and live in horror of unfinished WIPs. I'd of course welcome any and all comments at the end here too if you enjoyed the story! (And feel free to poke me [on tumblr](http://claranon.tumblr.com) because there aren't enough Jade/Hendrik fans around, dammit.)
> 
> Eternal gratitude to the husband who patiently read each chapter as I wrote it, then again to make sure it was consistent, then again because I 'just have to be sure this part works'. Joke's on him because I actually made him tear up at one point, HA.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
>   
  

> 
>   
(Putting the cover art here again because I took those screenshots _myself_ and painstakingly made sure they were exactly lined up and then learned how to do gradients in Photoshop solely to create my vision. Let me have this, okay?)

╔════════════════╗  
**Epilogue: Heliodor, Again**  
╚════════════════╝  
  


Hendrik stood outside the king’s audience chamber and adjusted his cape for what felt like the hundredth time. One of the straps on his breastplate seemed as though it had been wrenched askew, and the fabric refused to lay evenly. He gave it a firm yank and waited for a few moments before nodding in satisfaction.

It fell down again; Hendrik scowled. A guard down the hall eyed him curiously, but he ignored the man. 

Turning his attention to other matters, he mentally went over his report again. Albite had been most forthcoming and Hendrik had some confidence that the majority of the conspirators would be rounded up by day’s end. Those who had fled to parts unknown would take longer, but relations between the countries of Erdrea were cordial enough these days that he hoped the search would prove easier than he once might have feared.

Especially seeing as Hendrik had a very recent, _very_ vested interest in remaining at home for the foreseeable future. His stomach fluttered with that newly-familiar feeling and he could not help the smile that came across his face. The guard, still watching him, almost dropped his spear in surprise.

There was the sound of heeled boots on the carpet and Hendrik turned in time to see Princess Jade strolling up to him, her lips curved into her own mysterious smile. 

Hendrik took a moment to let his hungry eyes rove over her before he bent into a bow, fist to his heart. “Your Highness.”

When he rose again, she had a hand on her hip and an eyebrow teasingly raised. “An interesting choice of address compared to some of the _others_ you’ve used lately, Hendrik.”

He flushed at the memory—as he _knew_ she had intended him to—and coughed. “I...thought it best to keep up appearances in public, Princess,” he explained, slightly strained.

Jade hummed and walked over to the wall beside him, leaning up against it. “You’re probably right,” she conceded. “I’ll allow it—for now.”

She tilted her head at him and that smile came back, enchanting and secretive with just the faintest hint of mischief within it. It was the sort of smile that sped his heart up in his chest and he desperately cast about for a change of topic before he fell apart entirely.

“Is there—” Hendrik cleared his throat. “Is there some reason for your visit, Princess?”

“Yes, actually. I knew you were coming to make a report to my father and I thought it would be a good time to tell him about our recent...” She hesitated for a moment, searching for the correct term. “...mutual understanding.”

He jerked back involuntarily. “You—you cannot mean to tell him of—” Horrified visions flooded his mind: the princess blithely informing her father of the night they had spent together; the king’s furious shouts; Hendrik being dragged away in chains to join the foul conspirators in the dungeons, never to be seen again.

“Goodness no, Hendrik!” Jade seemed to be holding back a laugh as she stared at him. “I rather like having you un-imprisoned, you know.”

“Ah. Yes, I...I see.” The knight sagged in place, head hanging with relief. 

That is, until the princess continued in a casual voice: “I was referring to our betrothal, of course.”

His head snapped back up. “Our _what?_”

The guard down the hallway looked over in response to Hendrik’s outburst and the knight hastened to calm himself. He took a step closer to Jade, who was gazing up at him with amusement on her face.

“But Princess,” he protested in hushed tones, “I do not recall that either of us has even proposed!” Surely he would not have forgotten such an occurrence, would he? He had spent much of the night in a complete daze, but an event of such import—

She waved a hand in the air. “Yes, you most certainly have. In the gardens, remember? During the ball, about eighteen years ago?”

His scrambled mind seized upon this bit of information and struggled to make sense of it. A pond, a pile of stones, a duel; a solemn vow to a pouting princess.

“From...from when we were _children_, Your Highness?” he asked incredulously.

“A knight’s word is his bond, is it not?” she pointed out. “At any rate, I’ve had a few years to think it over and I’ve decided to accept.”

She paused. “Unless...you’re rescinding the offer?”

“No!” It was out of his mouth before he could think, and he took another involuntary step closer. “No, I—I merely thought that you were...uninterested in complications at present.” It was, truthfully, the only reason he had not begged her to marry him a half a dozen times over during the night previous—most frequently after they had finished with their _activities_ and the crises of conscience had taken hold.

“I would have thought I’d made myself quite clear last night, Hendrik.” Her head tilted again. “Or during the second time later on. Or even the third one this morning, when you were trying to help me put my dress back on and got _thoroughly _distracted by my—”

“Please, Jade, I most earnestly _beg_ of you to stop.” His eyes squeezed shut as he willed his body not to respond to the images that flooded through his mind. Despite himself, he felt a traitorous stirring in his trousers and thanked the heavens that his armour concealed him.

“All right.” He looked down at her again to see her gaze shining with laughter. “I was merely trying to explain why we needn’t delay. It might even be a good time for a reunion soon, so we can inform our friends as well.”

“But...but we have not even courted,” Hendrik protested weakly, still _very_ much stuck on the idea of moldy jail cells complete with scurrying rats. “Whatever shall we tell the king?”

Jade smiled, a beautiful, perfect thing. “That it was destiny.”

He sighed and felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. “I wish you would be serious for only a moment, Jade—”

That exquisite eyebrow went up again. “Who says I’m not?” And then he was not so sure, after all. 

The door to the audience chamber opened before them. “The king will see you now!” the page proclaimed. A rush of panic went over Hendrik and his feet felt frozen in place, mind running in a thousand terrifying directions.

Then his princess grabbed his hand with a reassuring smile and pulled him up next to her. They entered the room and walked toward the future together, side by side.


End file.
